The Mystery Cat
by Eliaza
Summary: Who is he really? This alternate-history tale is both an Origins Story and a defense. It questions the so-called Napoleon of Crime's guilt of the crimes imputed to his name. It throws doubt on the supposedly sinister nature of the cat himself. In short, it is a work of speculative fiction based on a desire for a Macavity redemption arc. Inspired by Cats, Wicked, and Richard III.
1. Chapter 1

_Midsummer's Night_

MacVitie was not afraid until darkness began to fall. In the failing sunlight, the familiar rubbish heaps surrounding the ginger-red tom began to take on strange and frightening shapes. There was movement in the shadows—only mice, he knew, but even small rodents can seem menacing to a tiny kit alone in the dark. He growled low in his throat, trying to trick himself (and anyone who might be near, though to all appearances there was no one) into believing he was fierce and brave, fear did not exist. Repeating such thoughts to himself, he settled down to wait for his brother's return.

That Munkustrap _would_ return, he knew for certain. Munk was the one looking out for his siblings as long as their parents were away settling what they kept referring to as "the Dispute." MacVitie wasn't certain why they used that term, for he thought a "dispute" was an argument, and he knew (though they had tried to keep it from him) that there was more at paw than mere _talking_. Cats were angry enough that they were hurting each other—fighting the way he and his brothers often did, only in earnest, enough to perhaps kill one another. MacVitie shivered and forced himself to think of something else.

Munkustrap had left only briefly, he said, to find some food. They could all catch mice, but truthfully there was not much meat on the rodents and they grew bland and tiresome after a while. Munk had gone looking for tastier morsels to keep up his brothers' spirits.

MacVitie let out an exhausted sigh, wishing again that his other brother had been considerate enough to keep watch with him, instead of retiring to their den early as if it were any ordinary night. At this thought, MacVitie's fear leaned more towards anger. The eldest of the three brothers, _Tugger_ was the tom who should have been looking out for the others and fetching food, not Munkustrap. Tugger boasted plenty about being the firstborn, "and therefore the leader, and therefore Munk and Mack had to do whatever he said…" And so forth. But when it came to doing any actual _work_, Tugger was always strangely absent. Seemed to MacVitie that Tugger cared only for preening about, flirting with queens, admiring his own precious form in the mirror he kept in the den…not much else. MacVitie wondered briefly if Tugger knew any more about where their parents had gone than Munkustrap and himself did. Tugger was just barely young enough to stay home and out of the "dispute"… If _he_, MacVitie, were old enough, he would be fighting beside his father, no questions asked—that much he knew beyond doubt. Indeed, if he'd thought he could get away with it, he'd have followed them…But everyone thought a kit like him was good for nothing but to stay at home and out of the way. And, he supposed they were right: a weakling like him would be no use to anyone in a fight. But that would not be the way of things for long, he vowed. He would grow quickly, eat well, build up his strength—the next time there was a need, he would be ready to do battle…

Next he knew, MacVitie was being shaken awake. Slowly, he forced his eyes open, berating himself for falling asleep. "Is't you, Munk?" he mumbled, vision fuzzy. "I don't think I'm hungry, let's just watch for Dad…"

"It's only me, son," sounded the low, rumbling voice of his father. Mack felt himself being lifted easily into the strong arms of Deuteronomy. "And high time you were in your den. Your brother let you keep watch far later than your mum and I would have, so you may thank him in the morning."

As the darkness closed back in around him, MacVitie tried to remember what it was he had been keeping watch for. "Did you…win?" A large yawn almost cracked his head in two and the last word was barely discernible.

"Win...? Yes." Was his father weeping? It must be his imagination… "No more questions tonight, MacVitie. Sleep."

_Late Winter_

"Psst! Biscuit! Wake up!" Far earlier than he wanted, someone was nudging—well, no, shaking and slapping—him awake. MacVitie growled feebly.

"Don't call me 'biscuit,'" he mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Should've told Mum not to give you a biscuit name, then," the other tom snorted. _"MacVitie. _Scottish Lord, my footpaw. Who ever heard of such a ridiculous…"

"I've said. You can call me 'Mackey' or 'Mack.'"

"As if those were any better. Like the blackberry preserves?" That was _MacKay's,_ but no way this side of Heaviside would MacVitie admit to knowing as much. Tugger had too many human words and names in his vocabulary as it was.

"I'll tell everyone to call you Sparkles."

"Never mind, never mind," Tugger waved a paw dismissively. To Mack's satisfaction, he _did _look as though the prospect of other Jellicles finding out his human-pet name had him at least slightly bothered. "Listen, Mack, where's my mane?"

"Your _what?" _Now more or less wide awake, MacVitie sat up, looking at his brother as if he'd grown a third ear in the middle of his head. Which might be an improvement, come to that… "You haven't got a mane."

"Shut _up." _Tugger clapped a paw over MacVitie's mouth. "Don't ever say that again. Do you want me to lose my fan-queens?"

"Your _what?" _Mack repeated, dazed. "Is that another human phrase you've picked up?" Ever since he had got himself "adopted" into a human family (by which Tugger meant he still lived mainly in the Junkyard and only visited the humans enough to keep them from worrying as to his whereabouts), Tugger had become stranger than ever before. He could often be seen wearing a thing he called a "belt"—really an overlarge Pollicle collar that could fit around his middle—a shiny, golden one that stood out glaringly against his black pelt; he worked daily on dances for the next Jellicle Ball, bizarre dances he said had appeared on the "television set;" he had created what he called a "stage name" for himself, adding "Rum Tum" to the beginning; he apparently called the queens who adored him his "fan-queens"; and now this fuss about "his mane." _Where is Munkustrap to rescue me from this madness? _"Do you mean to say," MacVitie gaped, slowly comprehending, "you've got yourself a pretend _mane _to wear? Like a…Maine Coon?" He had heard of those cats: huge, they were supposed to be, with neckfur that fluffed out so widely it looked almost like a lion's mane. Tugger was tall already and still growing, and relatively well-muscled, but Mack doubted he'd grow to the size of a Coon. Somecats said their father was Maine Coon, at least half; he was certainly the size for it; but Deuteronomy had no mane except a bit of fluff round the face, and could not remember his parents well enough to be certain what sort they were.

"Precisely," Tugger grinned. "Have you _seen _those blokes? They're _ginormous! _And that _shoulder_ fluff! You should see it, Mackey, I made it all by myself, out of yak hair, and when I put it on no one would even know it wasn't my real shoulder fur." He frowned. "Which is why I've got to find it!"

"What's a yak? And why d'you think _I'd_ know where it is?" Mack was growing more irritated by the minute. Even having lived with Tugger his entire life thus far, he simply could not _believe _anycat could be conceited enough to wake another at this ridiculous hour just to locate an _accessory_, another human term Tugger'd learned. _Catnip, now _I'm _starting to naturally use human words in my head. Someone help! _

"Well…Munk wasn't here, and I had to start somewhere. And a yak is a cow with long hair." Besides, MacVitie reflected, Tugger couldn't exactly let it be known outside the family that his mane was false. Tugger's scowl grew deeper. "Besides, we _both_ know you've been jealous of my good looks since we were newkits. No doubt you thought it would be terribly clever to hide my mane somewhere…"

He could not believe what he was hearing. "I've not seen your blasted mane," MacVitie spat, the last of his patience evaporating. "I didn't know about it until this moment. And if I _had _happened across it, and known it was yours, I wouldn't have touched it with a twenty-foot fishing line! Those human animals have probably had their filthy paws all over it: I don't know which is worse, theirs or yours."

Tugger narrowed his eyes and glared at the younger tom for a few moments. Finally, he turned to leave, landing MacVitie a punch on the shoulder for good measure. "Fine, then. But if I find you've _had_ it all this time…"

"Are you two fighting?" Mack and Tugger looked up to see a silver tabby tom entering the den just as Tugger was exiting. "Well, are you?" Munkustrap repeated, looking suspiciously from one brother to the other.

"No," MacVitie volunteered. "Sweet Roll here has just lost something, as usual." Tugger shot him a wrathful look, but did nothing more, as then he'd have had Munkustrap to contend with.

"Yeah," the oldest brother practically shouted, "and it's not here, so goodbye!" Tugger fled the scene before he could change his mind and claw the satisfied smirk off his kit brother's face.

Munkustrap shook his head wearily, before turning back to MacVitie. "You're up early. Have you eaten?" He had long since given up lecturing either of his brothers on treating each other better. Their quarreling annoyed those around them but did little else blatantly harmful. To Munk's thinking, it was best to let them have it out until they learned either to get on well together or to simply leave one another alone. _Surely this is just a phase they will outgrow… _he thought without much conviction.

"No. Got anything tasty?" Mack asked hopefully.

"As a matter of fact," Munk grinned, "I've just found _this_ in a bin outside a diner." He tossed his brother a generously-sized slab of meat.

"Those humans are such wasters, throwing out perfectly fine meat," MacVitie remarked, scraping off a bit of odd-coloured stuff before proceeding to tuck in. "Mmmm! So, what were you doing in town this time of morning?"

To his surprise, Munk looked decidedly uncomfortable all of a sudden—indeed, almost nervous. "Well…" Just then, Mack espied something around the older tom's neck.

"You too?" he groaned. "I thought we agreed, humans are sweet, but best left alone to mind their own lives, and we ours." That, at any rate, was the polite version of Mack's opinion on the matter. _Why should we have _anything_ to do with them? We owe them nothing. How much we sacrificed for them, and do we get any credit? _He finished off his slab of meat and began licking the remnants from between his claws, awaiting the explanation he knew must be forthcoming. Unlike most adults, Munkustrap did not expect MacVitie to simply accept his actions without question.

"MacVitie…" Munk placed a paw on the younger tom's shoulder. Mack looked up and steadily returned his gaze.

"Yes, I'm listening." Mack tried not to sound sulky. He could not help wondering if now _he_ would be expected to find a human family.

"Mum and Dad say," Munkustrap continued, "that it can only help—those of us who'd like to, adopting humans. They feel rather more responsible for the humans' welfare than before, in view of…well, of what happened." It had been several months, and still Munkustrap had difficulty speaking of what everyone called "that night," or "the incident," or "the dispute." Mack, still for the most part unaware of what _had _actually happened, let out a frustrated sigh.

"And I suppose," he griped, "you'll now say they want you to help _me _find some humans." Before Munk could respond, Mack quickly went on, "Y'know, I'd appreciate the need for all this fuss a lot more if…if I just knew _why." _He was going out on a limb, saying this much. He knew that, whatever else it had been, "that night" had been a nightmare for the older members of his family. Thinking and speaking of it seemed to drive them to distraction: he hated seeing the distress he caused them by mentioning it. At the same time, he was infuriated by how little he was allowed to know of the situation.

"You're right," Munkustrap responded, to his surprise.

"You don't have to say," MacVitie interrupted quickly, immediately regretting his former words. "If Mum and Dad say you shouldn't, and you think…whatever you think is best, that's enough for me." It wasn't true—he was determined as ever to get answers one way or another—but not like this. Nothing was worth his brother's pained expression, nor his mother's strange coldness lately, nor his father's voice that night: "Yes, we won," Deuteronomy had answered, but from his tone of voice one would think he had said, "The world has ended." Suddenly MacVitie was not so sure he wanted to know something that could have such an effect on those he thought of as his strong protectors. If _they_ were so vulnerable, what could that mean for him?

"No, I should—" Munkustrap seemed about to argue the matter, then changed his mind. "Soon, Mackey, I promise. You're right; you are old enough to know; Dad has said it's all right. I just…"

"I know." He didn't; but what else could one say? "But about the humans thing…"

"You're not required to do anything you aren't ready for," Munk said firmly. "If you don't want to now, we'll say no more about it."

Mack heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Munk. I'll…well, think about it." He said this with little real conviction—more for Munk's benefit than anything else. "I'm going out," he added, feeling awkward all of a sudden. Most kits his age would have said "I'm going out _to play," _but the word "play" never really rolled off his tongue naturally. Perhaps having two older brothers, he had learnt to think of it as a babyish word.

"Do think about it," Munkustrap called after him. "Humans, Mackey…they really aren't so bad."

"Right," Mack called back noncommittally. "I'll…see you later."

* * *

Leaving the den, he really had no idea where he was heading. He just needed to escape that conversation before it got _too _sentimental. Munkustrap wouldn't be offended by his abrupt exit: the two understood each other well enough without words. Which was more than could be said for Mackey and Tugger, who would never speak the same language no matter _how_ many words they threw at one another.

"Vitie?"

Mack spun around, concealing his annoyance at the nickname. "Deme," he sighed, "can't you say Mackey?"

Demeter, a gold-and-black tortoiseshell queenkit a bit younger than himself, wrinkled up her nose in concentration and was silent for several minutes. "No, sorry," she said finally. "Vitie's just easier to say." MacVitie raised an eyebrow skeptically, wondering how that could possibly be the case. Generally it took kits longer to learn the "v" sound than the "m." Deme's ears drooped. "I'm sorry if it hurts your feelings. But it's closer to your real name anyhow, isn't it?"

"Yes," Mackey acknowledged, "but somecats think it's a silly name and make fun of it. I don't like that."

Demeter frowned. "Well, that's just mean. _I _think your name is lovely," she announced decidedly. "You should just scratch—no," she abruptly corrected herself, "Mummy says scratching is not nice… You should… Just _walk away!_ That's it!" She beamed at him as if she had just solved the Ultimate Question of Life, and Mackey couldn't help but smile back.

"By catnip, you're right, Deme! I should have spoken to you sooner, and then I wouldn't have had so much trouble."

"That's right, silly," Demeter laughed. "It took you a long time to think of! From now on, you just come talk to me if someone is mean." She sobered, re-thinking this. "Hmm…no, actually you should go talk to your mum. That's what I do whenever I don't know what to do about something, or if I'm feeling bad, or anything like that. Mummies are the best to talk to because they know everything. _I _don't know everything, not yet," she added modestly. "But when I'm older like Mum, then I'll know. Don't you ask _your _mum about everything?"

"Well…" MacVitie hesitated, at a loss how to answer. Demeter couldn't possibly relate to his situation, he reflected. _Her _mother, Jennyanydots, was…he didn't like to think "fussy," but he couldn't think of a better word. She constantly had to know "what her kits were at"—every moment of the day. Even if Deme didn't choose to be so frank, Jenny would probably find out everything about her regardless. It was not necessarily a bad thing, only it seemed a bit overwhelming. But he supposed Deme and her older sister, Bombalurina, were used to it. It was certainly better than Jenny's not caring at all—which brought him back to his own mum. Bella was not neglectful or uncaring, far from it. But something was…strange, in her. MacVitie couldn't put his paw on it and was afraid to ask Munkus or Deuteronomy—no doubt they would be shocked and hurt that he could have such thoughts about his own mother. But he knew there was something—it wasn't his imagination. Bella made sure her kits were well fed, and even sang MacVitie to sleep most nights—Tugger was "too old for lullabies," and Munkustrap often stayed out late into the night with their father, walking the length of the Junkyard, learning to look for signs of danger and protect the territory. Yet, when MacVitie spoke with her about anything more than everyday matters, there was something strange—a distance in her eyes. She did not seem to be really there, even though she was right in front of him. Lately she had spent more time at her humans' house—Deuteronomy said it was because of "the dispute." When MacVitie asked her what her humans were like, she let out a dreamy sigh and looked off into the distance, as if she would rather be elsewhere. MacVitie did not know what all this meant, but it made him feel strange near his mother and did not encourage him to open his mind to her—not that he had, really, ever been inclined to open his mind to anyone but his father and brother.

"Silly me!" Demeter exclaimed suddenly, startling him out of his thoughts. "Toms don't talk to their _mummies _about everything, they talk to their daddies! Right? I forgot. So you must tell Uncle D everything." MacVitie winced slightly at the abbreviation, but Deuteronomy _was _difficult for kits to say. Deme's face took on an awed look. "Your daddy is the leader of all the Jellicles," she almost whispered. "And the oldest cat in the world. He _really _knows everything. So he could help you with any problems. Couldn't he? You should ask him how to make everyone stop being so mean about your name."

"Maybe. Maybe so. You sure know a lot, Deme," he replied with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. Then, abruptly, to change the subject, he added, "Wanna chase a mouse?"

"Yes, oh yes!" Demeter exclaimed, clapping her paws gleefully. "Only—wait." She stopped to think a moment. "I came here to tell you _something _before, and then we started talking… ohh, I know! My dad says the early train is in the station right now, and if we hurry up he'll take us to see it, any of us kits who are awake and want to, I mean! Want to go?"

"Okay," MacVitie nodded agreeably. He'd seen Skimbleshanks's trains dozens of times—who hadn't?—but there could always be something new and interesting at the station. Besides, it'd served his purpose: it had got Demeter's mind on something besides defending his name—_that_ had begun to turn embarrassing. He glanced around. "Is there anyone else we should ask along?"

"Hmm…Cassie's at her humans' house, Cori and Tanto probably already know 'cause they're magicky and can read minds, Bomba's already waiting with Daddy, Alonzo's somewhere… What about your big brothers?"

"Tugger's in the middle of something _really important."_ MacVitie smirked to himself at the reminder of his brother's frantic search. "But Munkus might want to go."

"Munkus might want to go where?" asked a voice behind them, making both kits jump and turn around.

"Don't _do _that, Cori," MacVitie complained, glaring at the black-and-white twins whom Demeter had just referred to as "magicky." Coricopat and Tantomile had an eerie way of "just knowing things." They were either magical, as most of the kittens believed, or extraordinarily perceptive, as the adults thought more likely.

"Besides," Demeter added, addressing Tantomile, "you already _know_, right?" She watched the other queen eagerly, as if expecting her to "read their minds" right then and there. Tantomile shook her head.

"Please tell me," she responded pleasantly. Demeter's ears drooped in disappointment, but she relayed her father's invitation. The twins glanced at each other before answering together,

"We'd better come along." Without further ado, they began to lead the way out of the Junkyard.

"But shouldn't we wait for—" MacVitie began to protest.

"Munkustrap can't come," Coricopat threw over his shoulder. "He's keeping an eye on things for the Leader." Mack didn't doubt Cori's word on that: young as he still was, Munkus always felt the need to protect or take care of _something_ or other, never mind whether it was actually necessary or that the silver tabby scarcely got a moment to breathe or do anything youngkits should do.

"We'll be all right, though," Tantomile added. "We'll have Skimble to care for us, and Alonzo. It's perfectly safe."

"Let's go, then," he mumbled to Demeter. The queenkit made no move to go, still staring after the twins in frustration.

"They just pick and choose when to tell us stuff and when to just talk in riddles," she complained.

"That's just their way. Let's go," MacVitie urged, taking her by the paw and following after Coricopat and Tantomile. "Magicky cats _never_ act like anyone expects, right? They're not just being mean to us. They can't help it." He wasn't sure that was true; in fact, he got the distinct feeling that the twins often enjoyed holding their knowledge over the heads of ordinary cats. But there was no need to say so to Demeter.

"You're right," said Demeter, her expression clearing up just as quickly as it had clouded. "At least they can tell us if there's anything scary nearby. Maybe that's why they said 'we'd better come along,' like that. It was kind of funny, wasn't it? But you're right, it's because of their magickyness…"

MacVitie grinned and simply let the younger kitten chatter on, feeling in a much happier mood than when he'd first awakened this morning.


	2. Chapter 2

"This is called the Engine," Skimbleshanks was explaining to the kits.

Only Demeter was hanging onto the orange tabby Railway Cat's every word, eyes widened in fascination. MacVitie and the twins were rather bored, but listened and nodded politely. Alonzo, a black-and-white patched kit around Munkustrap's age, all but hero-worshiped the silver tabby and considered himself another up-and-coming "tribe protector." As such, he was paying no attention to Skimble's lecture, but stood by the excuse that he had to "stand guard" and keep an eye on the surroundings at all times. As for Bombalurina, Demeter's scarlet-furred older sister, she made no pretense of listening and did not attempt to hide her boredom. She had come along "to help with the babies," but her ulterior motive was to watch for any cute toms who might be hanging around the railroad tracks. She had a vague idea of sometime bringing a tom back to the Junkyard, introducing him as her 'boyfriend,' and watching the fun as Tugger and the 'boyfriend' had an epic battle for her affections, proving once and for all that Tugger really _did _care about her. One never knew…

"The _Engine," _Skimbleshanks repeated, loudly, noticing his older daughter's lack of attention. "It's what pulls the train, _Bombalurina."_

"Isn't that so exciting, Bomba?" Demeter asked eagerly, tugging on her sister's paw. Bomba flattened her ears, embarrassed to have been singled out so directly in front of the others.

"We all know that, Dad," the red queen sighed. "Can't you show us something we've never seen before? Like the _inside _of the train, maybe?"

"Well…" Skimbleshanks paused a moment, as if he might actually consider it. Then, "No," he said decidedly, with a slight frown. "That would be far too dangerous. You ought to know that, Bomba: it's difficult enough steering clear of the humans out here. Inside would be a nightmare. Boarding begins in exactly…" He pulled out the fob watch he always carried, and checked the time—or pretended to. Even his own family didn't _entirely _believe he could accurately interpret human timepieces; all the same, he did somehow manage to remain nearly always on schedule. "…Ten minutes. It will be a madhouse, and someone might get trapped in some sleeping berth and accidentally carried away on the train!" MacVitie and Demeter gasped and exchanged glances, more excited than scared by the prospect of being "accidentally carried away." It sounded rather fun, and it wasn't as if they'd _never_ be able to get back again. Didn't trains always eventually return to where they came from? Noticing their expressions, Skimble brought his face closer to theirs. "That is _not a good thing," _he emphasized. "Especially as neither of you has got a human family yet. That means you've got no collar and license, and unlicensed animals are taken straight to the animal prison those humans have the gall to call a 'shelter.' Furthermore, if not rescued from said 'shelter' within a certain amount of time…"

Before Skimble could warm up to his topic and start in on yet another lecture altogether, Coricopat and Tantomile turned abruptly and faced the opposite direction. "Someone's there," Coricopat hissed.

Alonzo, jumping at the chance to do some 'protecting,' threw himself in front of the others, lip curled in a snarl, claws unsheathed and at the ready. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Nothing hostile, I think, Alonzo, but thank you all the same," Tantomile informed the harlequin, sounding as though she found it a strain not to laugh at him.

"Give us a hint, then," Alonzo muttered, looking down to hide his embarrassment. "Those of us as aren't psycho, I mean," he added, forgetting the exact word for "one-who-can-read-minds."

"You mean _magic, _Alonzo," Demeter whispered, feeling sorry for him.

"He means _psychic," _Bombalurina rolled her eyes.

"So where is the whoever-or-whatever-it-is?" Alonzo prompted the twins.

"There," Coricopat responded, nodding towards a clump of bushes a little ways from the train tracks. "Care to do the honors, Protector?" He and Tantomile were avoiding one another's gazes, their struggle not to laugh quite obvious now. Skimble kept an eye on them but did nothing as yet, more or less certain this was no more than a kittens' game. _They are clearly too young to appreciate the importance of my job and will do anything to distract themselves from listening…Should've waited until the afternoon train so they'd be more awake and willing to mind me…How _does _Jenny manage to keep them all in line…?_

Alonzo was none too eager to approach the Unknown Whatsit in the bushes, but he could not very well back down now. With a slight gulp, he closed the short distance between himself and the plants and pushed back the branches. "Who's—" His voice cracked terribly; he cleared his throat and tried again. "Who's there?" he demanded in what he hoped was a tone of authority. For a moment, no answer came. Alonzo turned round to glare at the twins. "Now, look here…" All at once, he was accosted by two tiny bundles of fur: one jumped up onto his back, the other attached itself to his leg, and once there, both clung as tight as leeches. "Argh!" he yelped, nearly toppling over. "Get 'em off!" He began hopping about, trying to release himself from the unknown fur-creatures.

He cut such a ridiculous figure that, for a moment, the others could only stare. Finally, Bombalurina had the sense to snap, "Stop _moving, _Lonzi! You're making them cry!"

_"What?" _Alonzo froze. The creatures (who had, amazingly enough, managed to keep hold of him) were nothing more than a couple of kittens. They appeared to be the size of newborns, but clearly this was malnourishment, as their eyes were opened and they were able to leap about the way they just had. Alonzo gaped. "What…? Help…me…?"

"Awww, they're so _cute," _Demeter crooned, able to see the kittens clearly now that Alonzo stood still. "Look, Vitie! They're _tiny! _They've got the prettiest orangeish-red headfur…No, maybe reddish-orange…Looks a bit like yours, Vitie…"

"Bomba, Alonzo," Skimble cut in abruptly, "take the others back to the Junkyard. Train's about to pull out. And thanks to your shenanigans, humans are beginning to stare!"

"But what about _them?" _Alonzo exclaimed—or, more accurately, wailed.

"So much for Great Protector," MacVitie snickered. "Scared of a couple babies…"

"Take them to Jenny and Jelly," Skimble snapped. "You're big enough to do that much by yourselves, I think!" The train's whistle let out a shrill blast. "Now clear out before you're caught!" Without further ado, he rushed off to tend his Railway duties.

"Come along," Tantomile called cheerily, beginning to lead the way home.

"Dad put _me _in charge," Bomba cut in, moving to the front of the group. Tantomile shrugged and turned to Alonzo.

"Would you like some help carrying them?" she offered. But Alonzo was still miffed by the others' laughing at him—and by his own absurd behavior afterward.

_"No," _he said firmly, and marched—or, rather, limped—after Bombalurina, the kittens still in their places: the one perched on his back, the other attached to his leg. As yet, they had made no noise apart from mewling, which quieted down as soon as Alonzo stopped trying to throw them off.

Coricopat nodded at Demeter and MacVitie. "You two go next. We'll bring up the rear."

Demeter gasped. _"Rear _is not a nice word! Mummy says it's not as rude as _bottom, _but…" From the corner of his eye, MacVitie could indeed see humans approaching as Skimble had warned them.

"Come on, don't you want to go help your mum with the new kittens?" he urged. Without waiting for a response, he hurried after the others, pulling Deme along by the paw.

The twins took one last, swift glance around before following.

MacVitie was baffled. Whatever else this day might be, it certainly had not proved itself boring thus far.

* * *

"Oh, the poor little _dears," _Jennyanydots murmured, cradling one of the tiny kits in her arms. Jellylorum, a cream tabby queen, held the other. Per Skimble's instructions, the kits had been brought to Jennyanydots in the extra denspace she kept for anycat who happened to need it: it could serve as a nursery for the youngest kits, a temporary den for lone strays who joined the Jellicles for safety, or an infirmary for injured and sick cats who needed to be cared for and sleep separately from the Tribe for a time. Having been fed with the baby bottles Jelly had "borrowed" from her humans' house and kept in storage for just such an emergency, the kits had gone to sleep, satisfied for the moment. As it turned out, both were toms, twin brothers to all appearances. Both were white-furred with a mixture of ginger and black patches, their headfur mainly ginger or "reddish-orange" as Demeter had described it, with a few darker flecks mixed in. Thankfully, each of their patched pelts wore slightly different patterns, or they would have been nigh impossible to tell apart. As it was, Jenny had tied a different-coloured ribbon around each tom's paw to help differentiate them until the Jellicles got to know them better.

"And they were simply abandoned by the train tracks?" Jellylorum asked, turning to Demeter and MacVitie, the only two kits who remained looking on. The moment they were no longer needed, Bombalurina and Alonzo had made their escape, while Coricopat and Tantomile had done their usual trick of disappearing without a trace until such time as they wished to be seen again.

"It looks that way," MacVitie nodded.

"I don't understand," Demeter pouted. "Why do they just cry and sleep and don't talk?"

"They're too young to talk yet, dear," Jelly explained patiently.

"What happened to their mummy? They're too little to be alone, right?" Demeter stroked the headfur of the kit Jelly was holding. "Poor little dears," she sighed, mimicking her mother.

"That they are," Jelly sighed, shaking her head. Then, realizing how gloomy she was becoming in front of the kits, "But it's all right. They'll be all right now," she resumed in a brisk tone. "We'll take care of them, won't we?"

"Yes!" Demeter agreed, clapping her paws.

"Shh," MacVitie warned.

"Oh!" Demeter giggled, quickly pressing a paw to her own mouth to muffle it. "I forgot!"

Carefully, Jenny and Jelly lowered the sleeping kits into a basket. "It's been some time since we've had newkits in the 'yard," Jenny whispered, her voice quivering with emotion. She pulled Demeter close and held her tightly—rather too tightly for even Deme's liking.

"Mum," the gold kit protested. "You're squeezing me!"

"You lot are growing too fast, to my way of thinking," Jenny sniffed, releasing her daughter but keeping her near. "Why, I remember when you were just this size…"

Jellylorum put a sympathetic paw on Jenny's shoulder. "Now, dear, kits must grow. It's the way of things," she said sensibly, but with a small sigh. She adored newkits, but she and her mate Peter had none of their own as yet.

"And just think, Mummy," Demeter added, "now we've got _two _little ones to play with!"

"Of course, you're right," Jenny acknowledged, sniffing dramatically. "How silly I'm being." To change the subject, she asked in a more cheery tone, "What shall we call them?"

MacVitie had been hanging back, cringing at how emotional and… "gushy" this situation was becoming. He was just contemplating an escape, seeing as his usefulness to the situation had more or less run out. However, at the mention of "what to call them," he turned back to stay a few moments longer. "Plato and Admetus," he piped up.

The three queens gave a slight jump and turned round to look at him. They hadn't exactly forgotten he was there, but he'd been so silent the last few moments…

"This one could be Plato," he added, indicating the tom with a green ribbon around his paw, "and this could be Admetus," nodding at the other, whose ribbon was blue.

Jenny looked surprised, then thoughtful. "Where did you hear such fancy names, dear?"

"Mum has used them in my bedtime stories," MacVitie shrugged, rather embarrassed now that the attention was on him. "She says they're her most favourite names but she didn't think of them until after we were already named. Besides, they would have to be names given to twins, she said, because the names sounded so well together. She used a word… _De-stink-ish, _I think she called it."

"I believe she meant _distinguished," _Jelly put in with an amused smile. "And they certainly are distinguished names at that," she added. "I've heard my humans mention them, always in relation to some high and mighty philosophical book or other. Jenny?"

"Anycat would be honored to hold such intelligent-sounding names," Jennyanydots agreed, though her face had taken on a slightly worried look. MacVitie couldn't think why that would be. Was there something wrong with the names? They had just said…

"You didn't ask what _I _think," Demeter cut in indignantly, tapping on MacVitie's arm to get his attention. Distracted from Jenny, MacVitie turned to the golden queenkit.

"I'm sorry, Deme," he said quite humbly. "What do _you_ think?"

"Pla-to and Ad-me-tus," Deme pronounced carefully, to be sure she got them correct. "Yes," she declared as if that settled it, "it's agreed." She looked down at the newly-named Plato and Admetus, eyes shining with pride just as though she had thought of the names herself.


	3. Chapter 3

_Spring_

Three words were first and foremost on nearly everycat's mind and on the tip of everycat's tongue: _The Jellicle Ball. _

The Ball was a tradition dating back no-one-knew quite how long. Deuteronomy recalled attending a Jellicle Ball yearly, at least as far back as his young-adulthood. There used to be many groups of cats, he said, each keeping their several celebrations in various areas of the city—and, he didn't doubt, the entire country, onwards, scattered throughout the rest of the world. It was an opportunity, whatever else happened the rest of the year, for anycat—whether he lived alone or with a family—to spend one night doing nothing else but enjoy himself dancing and singing the night away with fellow cats of every sort imaginable. Everycat simply found the Ball taking place nearest him and joined in the festivities. Once the Invitations were sung, the celebrations were open to all, the only law being that anywhere a Ball took place was for that night neutral territory—no violence of any kind was permitted. And at the end, of course, the Jellicle Choice was made. _The Jellicle Choice. _The words held such importance—and mystery.

Tugger, Munkustrap, and MacVitie all sat with their father atop a rubbish heap, looking out over their corner of the city, listening to their father explain all this. He wanted them to fully understand both how wonderful and how wild (and hence dangerous) the Ball could be, so they could know how best to help him keep everyone safe. Deuteronomy was interrupted at frequent intervals, as nearly every sentence raised important questions.

"How would you do that?" MacVitie wanted to know. "Keep anyone from turning violent, I mean...supposing the fancy took them?" Keeping the Ball open to anyone meant possibly trusting utter strangers, and MacVitie was not sure he fancied that.

"That is a difficult one," Deuteronomy acknowledged. "The situation rarely arose that I can recall, and when it did, generally it was a petty quarrel or simple misunderstanding and quickly resolved. The chief thing is to have an emergency plan should it be needed: a few strong cats always ready to separate any brawlers, and remove them from the premises if the case is extreme. For our Ball this year, Skimble and Peter will be in charge. I'm depending on you three to help them—take it in turns to sit out of the dancing a few moments, for example, and survey the area to be sure all is well. It need not monopolize anyone's entire evening—I want you all to enjoy yourselves—but you catch my drift, I'm sure." MacVitie nodded, sitting up a bit straighter. He couldn't help feeling pleased and proud that his father at last considered him old enough to take on such responsibility. And truthfully, he wouldn't mind a bit—keeping watch all night. The idea of dancing in front of everyone terrified him more than the idea of having to ward off an attacker. "You are welcome to recruit any others you think would fit the bill," Deuteronomy added, with a pointed wink directed towards Munkustrap. "I believe you have a patched comrade who would jump at the chance."

"Oh, I'm sure Alonzo will be raring to go," Munkustrap nodded, with a slight sigh. He didn't dislike the harlequin tom, far from it. Alonzo was a loyal friend and a good fighter—stronger and better-built than himself, Munkustrap was forced to acknowledge. It had been fun (and, Munkustrap again admitted, good for his ego) when they were youngkits and the harlequin would follow the silver tabby around, asking questions, observing the borders, playfighting, hanging onto Munk's every word as if convinced the silver tabby held all the world's knowledge of being a Tribe Protector. As they grew older, however, the harlequin grew rather distracted. Of late he treated fighting and protecting more like personal hobbies and opportunities to show off, rather than necessities to be prepared for at all times should a crisis arise. Munkustrap believed—or hoped—that, in an emergency situation, Alonzo would stay on task, but had never yet been able to test this theory. Alonzo was an obvious choice, if only he would keep focused.

"Of course," Deuteronomy resumed, "no one quite knows _how_ the Ball will go this year. We have only held one other here in the Junkyard, you remember. Each year, the city grows more crowded and fewer groups in the area keep the celebration. That is partly why I decided to more or less settle down here: this particular rubbish dump appears to no longer be taken notice of by the humans, and as long as that is the case, we may continue here indefinitely. And so I thought it would make a good gathering place, and that many cats who had not been to a Ball in years might appear in answer to our Invitation. Very few turned up last time, however. I fear the Ball is becoming a thing of the past, cats becoming more wild and solitary in their efforts to survive—or simply content to laze about their humans' homes at all times. Some no longer even believe in the Heaviside Layer, or that a cat can really be chosen to go there and receive a New Life. And then, of course, last year…" He paused. But his sons knew to what he referred: last year, which ought to have been theirs and the other kits' first Ball, there had been no Ball here at all, because of The Dispute. "But," he proceeded, with an effort to lighten his tone, "happily, now our Jellicle family has grown by several, and with so many young cats such as yourselves about the place, this year's Ball ought to be magnificent—the best ever held here, in fact."

"Oh—it _will _be, Father," Tugger spoke up for the first time. MacVitie shot the older tom a sidelong glance. Obnoxiously as he might behave towards nearly everyone else, Tugger still knew to respect Deuteronomy. Only, lately he took this to the extreme and insisted on being ridiculously formal towards his father—would never just call him "dad," for example. Sometimes he even bowed to him, as if imitating a human in a fancy waistcoat. Deuteronomy did not seem bothered by this one bit, but MacVitie found it simply bizarre and artificial-like. Like that mane, which Tugger wore at all times now, except to sleep or in the rain. "I will personally see to it that this will be the greatest party in the history of parties," Tugger vowed. _Party. _There he went, making it sound like a load of humans gathering in a tiny room with music blaring and becoming positively insane. That did not seem to be what Old Deuteronomy would have in mind for a celebration as important as the Jellicle Ball. But the old tom merely nodded encouragingly.

"That's the spirit, Tugger. Any more questions, any of you?" Deuteronomy added, nodding at each of his sons in turn. Tugger and Munkustrap shook their heads no, then glanced at MacVitie.

The ginger tom hesitated, afraid to ask the question that was truly nagging him: _What would we do if we should come under an _actual_ attack—not simply a couple of cats having too much fun or an argument getting out of paw, but suppose there are actually cats out there simply waiting for an opportunity… _He could not help feeling that Deuteronomy's motive for putting together a line of "defense-cats" had to do with a more serious threat than what he was telling them. This was not completely speculation…MacVitie had seen something… Deuteronomy did not want to worry them, but if asked directly, he would _have_ to say more. _He would not lie, would he…?_

MacVitie's irresolution lost him the opportunity to ask. All at once, their conversation was cut short by three other cats clambering up onto the pile to join them. "Here you all are!" Demeter exclaimed. She glanced over her shoulder at two patched tomkits. "See? I told you we'd find—" She stopped short and looked at Deuteronomy, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Did we interrupt?"

"Not at all, we've just finished talking," Deuteronomy assured the gold queen, smiling indulgently.

"We wanna show you our new trick!" Plato exclaimed, seizing the leader by his paw.

"Very well," Deuteronomy laughed, slowly getting up to follow. "Let's all go along."

"Yeah, Tuggy, you _have _to come!" Admetus cried. "If our trick is good enough, will you let us perform it for your—?"

"Shut _it_!" Tugger jumped up, giving the tomkit a sharp warning glance.

"It's a _surprise, _Adme," Plato snapped, "don't forget!"

Admetus' ears drooped. "I'm trying to remember…"

"Don't worry," Demeter soothed, taking his paw. "You haven't really given anything away! Let's show the others this trick of yours." She turned to MacVitie and Munkustrap, beaming. "Are you two coming?"

"Of course," Munkustrap began.

"We'll be there in a minute, Deme," MacVitie cut in, shooting Munkustrap a meaningful look. "Perhaps you can get them to wait for us?"

Demeter looked confused, but nodded. "Of course. Come on, Adme."

As soon as the others had gone, Munkustrap turned back to face his younger brother. "What are you on about, MacVitie?" he asked, though he was near certain he already knew.

"Munk…I've got to… Look, you and I both know we're not _just_ responsible for protecting everyone from petty quarrels. There's something more to this. It's to do with The Dispute. I've _got_ to know what happened that night, and why there's still danger."

Munkustrap sat back down on the rubbish pile. He took a few deep, shaky breaths, then nodded. "All right. Of course, I can only tell you what Dad's told me… But first, do _you_ have a reason for thinking there's still danger?"

"I…I think I saw… Growltiger."

* * *

"There you are! It's about _time!" _Plato cried impatiently, when at last Munkustrap and MacVitie joined the others.

"You took so long," Admetus pouted, "now everyone's got busy doing something else and they aren't even watching anymore!"

Munkustrap grinned at the two. "Sorry about that, Adme," he said, ruffling the patched tomkit's ears. "We're here now, and we'll watch."

"And not to worry," MacVitie added, mirroring Munkustrap's grin and trying to behave as naturally as possible. _Not an easy task, in light of what the two brothers had just discussed and decided. _But if Munk could manage, he could manage. "We'll soon have everyone's attention again…" He glanced around to track down the others. None had gone far. Demeter and Old Deuteronomy sat talking together a little ways off. Tugger reclined atop an old auto, Bombalurina and Cassandra on either side of him, Tantomile on the other side of Cass. He was apparently saying something amusing, since every few moments the three queens would giggle. MacVitie shook his head wearily. Even Tantomile was susceptible to Tugger's "charm?" Enough so that she was actually going about without her shadow, Coricopat, for once! _You'd think, being psychic, she'd see what a featherbrain he is and be disgusted. Unless he's this Genius and is just amazing at hiding it…or perhaps his intelligence is buried so deep down, it takes a psychic to find it… _Alonzo sat a few feet from Tugger and the queens, pretending to keep watch but probably sulking—since hardly any of the city was visible from where he was sitting. No doubt he had been conversing nicely with the queens until The Tugger came along. _Might as well rescue him from that awkward situation as well… _"Attention, everyone!" MacVitie announced, "the Great Admetus and the Great Plato are about to perform their amazingly daring feat of daring amazement!" He knew the two brothers would enjoy the attention—and that Admetus would be happy having his name announced first, for once, when usually the names tended to roll off one's tongue the other way round.

In answer to MacVitie's announcement, most of the others stopped their conversations and gathered around cooperatively. MacVitie looked pointedly up at Tugger, who _was _moving, but was taking his sweet time about it. "Excuse me, ladies," Tugger sighed dramatically to Tantomile and Bombalurina and Cassandra, who were still gathered on either side of him. "I'd better humour the little'uns." He began climbing down the old car, the three queens close behind.

"Come _off _it," Bomba snickered, batting at his ear. "You know you adore kits, you great pushover."

"Nasty little vermin," he mumbled, though with little conviction.

Once things had settled, everycat quieted down and looked expectantly towards Plato and Admetus. Unfortunately, now that all eyes were on them, the two kits had grown rather nervous.

"Ah…thanks, everyone, for, er, ah, that is…we are now going to…" Admetus attempted some sort of introduction, but blundered about and finally looked, as usual, to his brother to take the lead.

"Never mind, never mind all that," Plato said, waving a paw dismissively. He was terrified, but was trying with all his might to feign indifference. "MacVitie has told you all what we're doing, so…C'mon, Adme, let's show 'em!"

The patched kits made their way over to the old car. After whispering together for a moment, Admetus climbed into the car's boot, and Plato shut him in—or as nearly shut him in as was possible, since the door was broken and would not close all the way. (Old Deuteronomy had seen to this following an incident in which Jennyanydots somehow became locked inside and had nearly suffocated.) After shutting his brother into the boot, Plato faced away from the car, in a slightly crouching position, front paws up in the air, and waited.

MacVitie glanced at Demeter, eyebrow raised inquiringly. What _could _these kits have in mind? But Deme shook her head. "I promised not to tell," she whispered. MacVitie shrugged and turned back round. It couldn't be all that dangerous, or she'd be showing more concern.

All at once, the door to the boot burst open, Admetus came leaping out, and the next moment he lay in a heap on the floor, Plato pinned underneath him. Demeter gasped and would have run to the two toms.

"Wait a minute," MacVitie stopped her. "Let them just..."

"That wasn't what they planned," she hissed. "They might be hurt."

"Most likely only their _pride_ is hurt, so don't mollycoddle them or you'll make it worse. Let's...clap our paws and pretend that was meant to happen." It was a human trick Munkustrap had taught him—was supposed to indicate joy or approval, or some such notion. It felt odd, but he supposed it was more dignified than, say, pounding the floor and grunting like apes… He and Demeter began an enthusiastic round of applause, and the others followed politely, though some of them were hard-pressed to contain their laughter.

After a moment, the two brothers managed to get back up on their feet. True to MacVitie's prediction, they appeared physically unscathed. But Plato was beet-red with anger and embarrassment, while Admetus looked utterly baffled and disoriented. It seemed he had no idea what had gone wrong. Still, both managed a bow, after which Deuteronomy got everycat to "scatter" and give the kits time to recover their dignity.

Demeter now would have made a beeline for the two, but once again MacVitie stopped her. The gold queen turned to face him, now quite put-out. "Look here," she growled, "just because they pretend to be all tough and big-tom-like, doesn't mean someone shouldn't make sure they're all right! They're still practically _babies, _in case you'd—"

"I hadn't forgotten," MacVitie interrupted, "but if you can just manage to keep your distance for a bit longer. I'll go check up on…"

"Oh, it's all right for _you _to check on them, but not me? Because they follow you everywhere, you're suddenly the kitten-expert? What'll _you _tell them— 'just toughen up and walk it off'?"

"You're _completely _off the point. They need someone to make sure they're all right, but not someone to _fuss _over them. You _know _that's what you'd do, just like…" He stopped himself just short of going too far with that sentence, but she caught the drift anyway.

"Just like my mum? That's what you were going to say, _wasn't _it? Well, let me tell _you…" _

"What's the matter?" interrupted Munkustrap, coming between the two.

"Nothing," the gold queen and ginger tom both responded at once.

"I'm going to see about the kits," MacVitie said coolly, stalking off. He glanced once over his shoulder, and it appeared that Munkustrap was attempting to talk Demeter down from her frustration—at least with reasonable success, from the looks of things. MacVitie turned back round, shaking his head. Why did he and Demeter always manage to disagree on things? Things had been simpler when they were small...

"Not quite as planned then?" he inquired, coming upon Plato and Admetus. They had been arguing heatedly, but paused to glare at him.

"It was all _his _fault," Plato declared, pointing at his brother. "He jumped out of the boot far too soon—"

"I _didn't," _Admetus wailed, "it just opened on its own and I _fell _out!"

_"Couldn't_ have done," Plato snarled, ready to tear his headfur out in frustration. "Things don't just magically open on their own!" MacVitie stepped between the two before Plato could change his mind and tear Admetus's headfur out instead.

Admetus had a wild imagination and often exaggerated, but this situation really took the cake. The boot opened on its _own? _"Adme," MacVitie said, crouching down to look the younger tom in the eye, "think carefully. Was that _really _what happened?"

"Yes!" Admetus insisted, ready to cry.

"Baby," Plato muttered.

"I didn't open it!" Admetus repeated. Before MacVitie could question the kit further, he heard some sort of loud to-do back in the direction of the Tire. Perhaps a distraction, rather than further argument, was in order here…

"What d'you suppose _that _is?" MacVitie exclaimed, turning round to face the noise.

Plato's expression had relaxed a bit. "Someone's here!" he said, "Someone different I've never seen before!"

"R-really?" Admetus sniffled loudly and wiped a paw across his nose. "Who?"

"Let's find out," suggested MacVitie.

* * *

When they reached the others, Bella, Jellylorum, Peter, Skimble, and Jennyanydots had appeared, along with a large, black tuxedo tom—the largest, in fact, any of the kits had ever seen. He was tall, yes, but more noticeable was his humongous girth. MacVitie dimly recalled seeing him about the Junkyard once or twice before, but it had been quite some time, and he couldn't remember the tom's name. Next to the large tom stood a tiny tomkit with a nearly-identical fur color and pattern. Well, not _tiny, _MacVitie had to concede. The kit was around the same size as Plato and Admetus, perhaps slightly smaller. He was merely dwarfed by the sheer _enormity_ of the adult tom—his father, perhaps?—beside him. Old Deuteronomy stood conversing with the large tom and the other adults, while the younger cats looked on—with the exception, MacVitie noted with a roll of his eyes, of Tugger and Bomba, who had returned to their perch on the car. Tugger probably remembered the "new" tom better than the others, and was not as curious—or pretended not to be. Munkustrap, Demeter, and Cassandra stood a polite distance off, waiting for an opportunity to join the conversation. Demeter pointedly avoided looking in MacVitie's direction. Coricopat had joined Tantomile, and the twins stood facing the tuxedo tomkit in what appeared to be a staring contest. MacVitie briefly wondered if they were holding some sort of telepathic conversation. Whatever it was, it was broken by the arrival of himself and Plato and Admetus.

"Hi," Plato greeted the new tomkit boldly. The kit looked at him but gave no response, until Admetus joined them.

"Sorry about the boot, Admetus," the tuxedo kit murmured, so quietly that the others had to strain to hear him.

"Huh?" Admetus asked, startled. "How do you know my name? And, er, what are you talking about?" He glanced uneasily at his brother, dreading lest Plato become irritated again with the return of the subject.

"Cori and Tanto told me," the new tom went on. "I didn't know someone was in there. I was just curious, so I opened the door and looked in. So don't be mad at him," he added, looking at Plato. Plato stared at the strange kit, for once too shocked to say anything.

"Want to tell me what the kit's on about?" MacVitie frowned, turning to Coricopat and Tantomile.

"I think he's explaining himself well enough, don't you?" said Coricopat.

"No," MacVitie said firmly, "I could use some embellishment." _Before we're all thoroughly spooked. _

"Well, it would seem he's gifted," Tantomile said, shrugging as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

"So—what, he's like you two?"

"No," Tantomile frowned, as if even she didn't quite understand it.

"Somewhat different," Coricopat said. "Well, you heard him—he opened the boot without being anywhere near it. We can't do _that_ sort of thing."

"So," Plato said to the new tomkit, "you're—what's your name, anyway?"

"Quaxo," the tomkit responded. After a moment, he added, "Though sometimes it's Magical Mister…"

"Don't make it confusing," Plato waved a paw impatiently. "So, Quaxo, you're another psychie cat like the twins?"

"So you don't…you know, play, and normal things like that?" Admetus asked, disappointed.

"Of course I can play," said Quaxo, now on the defensive. He paused. "At least. I _think _so. I never had anyone to play _with_ before. Except Uncle Bustopher," indicating the adult tom he'd come with, "but he can't move about very much, playing-wise…if you know what I mean…"

_Uncle, _eh? Yes, the name Bustopher most certainly rang a bell now. MacVitie turned his attention on the adults' conversation while the kits continued talking.

"Er, ahem," Bustopher was saying, "so, for meself, I won't be able to attend the Ball except perhaps a few moments, an hour at most. And I can't make a long stay of it either before or after. Lots t'do, lots t'do, you know, you understand. But the thought struck me, young Quaxo here, he's of an age to want to be among other youngsters, not with the likes of _me_ day and night. Besides that, there's the, er, ahem, difficulty that many of my clubs do not—ahem—allow kittens. If you are willing, and the little chap likes it here of course, I'd be greatly obliged if he could stay on here for some time. That is, these few days until the Ball, and then longer afterwards if he's a mind to and hasn't gone homesick yet. He'll not be any trouble, Sir Deuteronomy, I can guarantee. He is young, but he's a smart little feller, and I've taught him manners and discipline as best I can—and me own knowledge in such things, as you know, is by no means lacking. He ought to be a model citizen here, other than the ordinary scrapes into which young'uns _will _sometimes get themselves…But no harm done, no harm done. What say you to that, eh?"

"I say it's a splendid idea, old friend," Deuteronomy declared, gripping Bustopher warmly by the paw. He looked round at the other adults, who nodded in agreement.

"And," Jenny added, glancing smilingly towards Quaxo and the others, "it appears your little lad is putting his best footpaw forward already. Have you introduced yourselves, dear?" she added, addressing MacVitie as he appeared to be attending to both conversations.

MacVitie thought, _Why, no, as a matter of fact introducing ourselves seems completely unnecessary as he either already knows our names or has been told them telepathically by the Mystic Twins. _Aloud, he answered Jenny, "Yes, introductions have been made." Technically Quaxo hadn't shown that he knew Plato or MacVitie's names yet, but no doubt he would soon in any case, either by keeping in touch with the twins or by hearing it spoken like any ordinary cat. (What a novel idea!)

"Good for you," Jenny beamed, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "As you may have heard," she continued, drawing him further into the adults' conversation, "little Quaxo will be staying with us until the Ball, and perhaps longer afterward."

"Bustopher," Old Deuteronomy added, "you surely remember mine and Bella's son MacVitie." MacVitie was not exactly thrilled to be brought into the middle of everything, but he did stand up just a bit straighter at his father's words. _Not "my youngest," not "my little MacVitie," not even "my third son." _

"But of course. Though perhaps you may not remember _me, _m'boy," Bustopher chortled. "Quite the little tyke then, weren't you, smaller I think than even me boy Quaxo is now." Jenny winced slightly, but she needn't have done. Even Bustopher's rather clumsy words couldn't faze MacVitie at the moment. "But no matter, no matter. Pleased to see you once more. I do hope you'll encourage the others to make a playmate of him."

"Of course…" MacVitie began.

"Oh yes," Jelly interrupted, "don't allow him to feel left out or become homesick, and be sure to come to us with any concerns."

"And take care he doesn't get lost," Jenny added.

"Now, then," Old Deuteronomy cut in smoothly, rescuing his kit from a series of lectures, "I believe we can safely trust MacVitie and the others to know what they're about when it comes to caring for our new young friend. Suppose we allow them some space to breathe in the meanwhile rather than overwhelming them with our well-intentioned-but-superfluous advice? MacVitie, would you please see to it everyone knows the situation and to take time in the course of the evening to introduce themselves to Quaxo?"

"Of course, Father," MacVitie nodded, and gratefully made his escape. He was aware that he'd just addressed Deuteronomy in the formal manner for which he'd mocked Tugger earlier; but somehow it didn't seem quite fitting to address the ancient tom with his usual kit-to-dad casual familiarity after Deuteronomy had just taken the trouble to demonstrate he considered his youngest son grown-up and responsible.

With a sudden recollection, MacVitie glanced at the sky. It was nearing dark, and he and Munkustrap had a task to attend—one he'd almost forgotten in all the commotion.

He hurried to pass along his father's message to the others.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you sure he'll be here?"

"No."

Munkustrap peered out from behind the pile of old tubs where the two toms were hiding, then pulled his head back round, unable to suppress a frustrated sigh. "So essentially we're having what my humans would call a 'stake-out.'"

"If you say so." MacVitie shrugged. "Look, all I know is I've seen him here at least twice."

"And after hearing what he's—what he's capable of—you still think the best idea is investigating it for ourselves?"

"If you think Dad should know, then go on and tell him," MacVitie groaned. "Only I wish you'd not waited until _now_ to have second thoughts."

"No…if we can save Dad having to worry about this…you're right, that should be avoided if at all possible. It's just, if he decides to _try_ anything…Growltiger, I mean…Neither of us is a match for him. Not even the two of us together, most likely."

MacVitie raised an eyebrow. _Don't be so sure, Muscles. _"Maybe. But I don't think that's his intention—at least not now. He met my eye this last time—he _saw_ me watching him—but did nothing. Call me mad, but it seems to me he wants to _talk_. Is that completely unbelievable? Is he nothing but a giant brute what can't be reasoned with?"

"I…" Munkustrap shook his head. "I don't know. He was here such a short time, we didn't have much chance to get to know him…"

"For myself," MacVitie interrupted, "the little I remember of him is as a great jokester. Always laughing, never serious. A 'gentle giant.' He even seemed _fun_ to us kits. I can still hardly imagine his being capable of—" He glanced searchingly into his brother's face. "Does…Cassandra know?" Despite the queen's having been in the Junkyard as long as he could remember, MacVitie doubted he'd exchanged more than twenty sentences with her in all the time of their acquaintance. Not, he must admit, that he'd ever really gone out of his way to speak with her. She was not the most open, approachable feline. Still, now he of necessity began to see Cassandra in a somewhat different light: as someone alone who needed protecting. And perhaps he had now learnt the _reason_ for her being so withdrawn and reserved.

"I'm not certain…but I don't think she does." The silver tabby held up a paw, seeing MacVitie about to interject. "I know. I know. But think how young she was—how young we _all_ were—when this happened. Truthfully, I've not _known _everything that happened much longer than you. And—I'm fairly sure there's still bits I don't know."

"Bits Dad is still keeping back, you mean," MacVitie grumbled. "So—what? She just thinks her parents disappeared one night and hasn't the foggiest if they're alive or dead?"

"To be perfectly honest…"

"That'd be nice."

Munkustrap frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean by that, Mackey." His voice had just the slightest edge to it now, the only indication that he was beginning to be bothered by MacVitie's attitude. "I was about to say, she may not _remember _her parents. I agree she still deserves to be told what happened to them, but doubtless Dad was waiting until the right time to tell her…and with things like this…when _is _there ever a right time?"

Perhaps, MacVitie reflected, he _was _being too brash, not understanding enough. But he couldn't very well back down now, though it unnerved him that he and Munkustrap were coming dangerously close to a real fight, something that rarely happened between them. "All I mean," MacVitie proceeded, with an effort to moderate his tone, "is that the more you tell me, the more it seems…that is…I feel…we've been lied to. And it isn't just a family matter, either: it affects the whole tribe. What about Alonzo? Is he aware that he's no orphan but in fact _his _parents are part of an evil crew of murdering masterminds…"

"Is _that _what he calls us?" guffawed a voice close behind them—one familiar to the two brothers, but one neither had heard since the event that had finally begun to seem like a distant nightmare.

"Blast," MacVitie muttered, realizing he and Munk had been jabbering on like apes instead of keeping watch. Both toms turned about to face the newcomer: a ginger, red, and black tiger-striped tom at least twice the size of either brother. He had only one ear, and wore a black eyepatch—_Pirate, _Munkustrap couldn't help thinking, remembering one of his humans' storybooks.

"Too true," Growltiger went on gravely. "You lads are fortunate no one of ill intent came along. You'd've been snatched up easily as sitting ducks, an' no mistake."

MacVitie's lip curled in a snarl, and he would have spoken up but for the warning glance Munkustrap shot him which clearly read, _Leave the speaking to me. _It irked MacVitie that he was expected to keep silent when this was all his idea, but he held his peace for now. Munkus _was _more the diplomat than he, after all. He waited to hear how the silver tabby would 'handle' _this_ situation.

"No one of ill-intent?" Munkustrap repeated, regarding Growltiger with a cold, hard gaze. MacVitie hadn't thought his brother capable of looking that way at _anyone. _"And what do you call yourself? As I understand, you have been banished from the Jellicle Tribe forever. If you'll leave now and never return, we'll not alert the Leader, and no more need be said about it."

"Is that meant to frighten me off?" Growltiger laughed again. "Little Silver Stripes standin' here tryin' to run off his old uncle! That is what we used to call ye, innit? Come now, nevvy, let's not keep things so bloody formal. I know it's been quite some time, but we're family—well, as good as. No amount o' banishing can change that. Me ole messmate Deuteronomy, whom ye so grandly refer to as 'the Leader,' understands as much."

"You gave up any form of friendship or kinship," Munkustrap continued firmly, though his voice took on the slightest quiver, "with Father _and _us, when you took it upon yourself to murder members of your own tribe."

"Murder?" the tiger tom repeated, in an offended tone. "Is that wot they're calling self-defense? What is one meant to _do_ when one is suddenly set upon by a half-dozen cats?" He turned to MacVitie. "Little Ginger-Snap, innit? Do _you _believe this rubbish? Ye can see for yerself, I lost most of me ear _and _an eye in this unprovoked attack!"

"Unprovoked? I highly doubt that," MacVitie growled, unable to avoid speaking up as he'd been directly addressed.

"Leave him alone," Munkustrap snarled, coming between them.

"Is this how the Jellicles behave nowadays?" Growltiger exclaimed, holding up his paws defensively. "I've done nothing, yet yer ready to tear me to bits. Mind, this in't the first time I've experienced such treatment…" MacVitie couldn't help feeling that Munkus _was _being a bit harsh when Growltiger had, it was true, behaved peacefully thus far.

"You are doing wrong merely by being here," Munkustrap responded. "If you've something decent to say, something you wish to pass along to Deuteronomy, I'll tell him and find what he has to say in return. But we'll not stand here and listen to your lies. If you've a message, say it and be on your way."

"Lies," Growltiger repeated, as if he couldn't understand the word. "You hear him?" he asked, speaking to MacVitie over Munkustrap's shoulder. _"Lies,_ he says, yet you've no way of really knowing, have ye? Seein's yer Da won't trust or respect you enough to give the whole story." MacVitie couldn't help wondering: if he could speak with Growltiger, just for a few moments, question him, might he possibly uncover more about that night? He so desperately wanted to know…

"You heard Munkustrap," Mack growled, shaking his head to clear it of such dangerous thoughts. "Give your message and clear off. Or just clear off."

"Ah, but y'see," Growltiger sighed, shaking his head wearily, "me message isn't for Old D. It's for you lads. Particularly _you,_ Vitie. But you'll neither of you hear it: all's you feel like doing is runnin' me off. I see that. So I'll go…" Actions suiting his words, he turned and began making his way out of the Junkyard. "But consider," he called over his shoulder, "I've information interesting to the both of you. If ever ye decide to hear it…I'll not be far away."

"Come round here again and you'll regret it," Munkustrap shot back.

* * *

"He's not going to stay away," MacVitie said the moment the tom's tiger-striped pelt was out of sight.

"I know." Munkustrap sank to the floor and leaned back against the pile of tubs, letting out a frustrated growl.

"Without…speaking to him further," Mack went on haltingly, sitting down beside his brother, "we've no way of knowing his intentions."

"And if we _do _speak to him," Munk countered, "we've no way of knowing if anything he tells us is true."

"Agreed."

* * *

"Who _was _that?" whispered a voice above them, unmistakably that of a kitten. Both toms jumped to their footpaws, startled, and squinted into the near-darkness to look for who'd spoken.

"Quaxo!" MacVitie exclaimed, "what are you _doing _here?" He spoke in a more irritable tone than he'd intended—was just shy of all-out shouting at the tuxedo tomkit. Whatever else he and Munkustrap decided to do about Growltiger, one obvious point was that no one vulnerable should become mixed up in the situation—most especially the younger kits. Yet now little Quaxo, their _guest _here no less, entrusted to their protection by Bustopher, was already falling headlong into it! How much had he heard? How had he managed to get up there unnoticed? "Come down from there and explain yourself," MacVitie commanded. He reached out to Quaxo, intending to help him down, but the tomkit shrank back, clearly unnerved by the ginger tom's sternness.

"It's all right, Quaxo," Munkustrap attempted in a much kinder tone, placing a paw on MacVitie's shoulder to calm him. "We just don't want you to get hurt. Won't you please come down now? You know we promised Bustopher we'd keep you safe." He offered the little tom his paw, but Quaxo leapt nimbly and silently down to the floor without any assistance.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said softly, looking from MacVitie to Munkustrap and back again. His gaze lingered on MacVitie, looking more like the gaze of a concerned parent than that of a scolded kit. Somewhat timidly, he patted MacVitie on the knee.

"I'm sorry I shouted, Quaxo," Mack sighed. "I wasn't really upset with you…"

"You only spoke loudly," Quaxo observed; "you weren't quite shouting. And you were upset by that big grown-up tom…"

"Quaxo," Munkustrap interrupted, as if to distract him, "why are you out here all alone? Isn't it time you were asleep?"

"I was _almost_ asleep," the tomkit explained. "Demeter and Bombalurina were meant to show me where I should stay. They asked would I rather stay with Plato and Admetus or have my own den. Plato and Admetus wanted me to stay with them because it would be such fun, they said, but I have trouble going off to sleep with too many cats around, and besides those two would just talk all night instead of sleeping, so I asked for my own den, I hope it didn't hurt their feelings, I think they forgot quickly, but if they aren't speaking to me tomorrow you'll know why. So Demeter showed me this nice old piece of drain pipe I could sleep in, and it was quite comfy, and I was almost asleep, like I said, when I heard your voices. I tried not to listen, but couldn't help it and couldn't sleep, and you sounded upset, so I came to see who you were speaking to and why it upset you. And that's why I'm here." As Quaxo finally stopped to catch his breath, his ears flattened slightly. "I know the grown-ups don't want me to wander alone, but I _had_ to come and see. Who was that tom?" he repeated.

A substantial amount of silence followed, as the two older toms gaped at one another in complete and utter flabbergastation. For the moment, their worries about Growltiger all but dissolved in the face of their confusion over exactly _who _or _what _this kit was. _Smart little fellow, _Bustopher had called him. That description seemed just _slightly _short of the mark.

"Quaxo," Munkustrap began cautiously, "are you _sure _you heard us? The pipe is quite a ways from here, and we were being very quiet…"

"You sounded about normal volume," Quaxo corrected, "and perhaps I've got excellent ears. I hear a lot of things."

"Quaxo," MacVitie spoke up, realizing he'd not yet had the chance to tell Munkustrap of certain things he'd already learnt about the tomkit. "Earlier, when you, well…opened up the boot of the car and accidentally sabotaged Plato and Admetus's show…"

Apart from a rather sharp intake of breath, Munkustrap managed for Quaxo's benefit to hide his shock at this (to him) new revelation—though he shot MacVitie a glance that clearly stated, _You will explain all this to me the _moment _we're alone._

"They aren't still upset about that, are they?" Quaxo gasped, his eyes widening. He seemed to concentrate for a moment. "No, I don't think they are," he answered his own question. "But it's hard to tell with them snoring so loudly…"

"No, no, that's not why I'm mentioning it," MacVitie interrupted hastily. "But after that, Tantomile said you were 'gifted.' Do you know what she meant by that?"

"Hmm…no, but it was very nice of her to say," Quaxo shrugged. "Gifted. _Every _cat is gifted, right? Some can run fast, some can catch mice, some can sing, some can dance…speaking of singing and dancing, I can't wait to see what this whole Ball thing is all about—oi, why do you keep distracting me?" he burst out suddenly. "You don't want me to know anything about that giant tom, do you?" he added, his tone turning rather sulky. "Not giant," he conceded; "Uncle Bustopher's giant. But this one _is _rather large. Still. Something's the matter with him, right? He's only got one ear, and his entire look is just generally ill-favoured. So why are you standing around asking me all these questions instead of _doing_ something about it?" As if to emphasize his point, Quaxo pounded the floor with his right paw—which, from such a tiny tomkit, would have been comical if at the same moment Munkustrap and MacVitie hadn't seen small bolts of light shoot out from underneath that tiny paw. The bolts did not reach far before disappearing, but neither brother could resist taking a jump back as if to avoid electrocution. "Oh, it does that sometimes," Quaxo said carelessly. "Uncle Bustopher says it's some science-y thing the humans call _static…"_

_"There _you are!"

The three toms turned around to face yet another newcomer. "Catnip," MacVitie muttered. "Let's just wake the entire 'yard, shall we?"

"I'm sorry, Demeter," Quaxo said meekly, approaching the gold queen in an effort to defuse the situation before she could begin scolding. "I know you said to stay in the pipe until morning, but MacVitie and Munkustrap…" He glanced back at the toms. "No," he continued decidedly, "they don't want me to tell you what they've been doing. Which is good, because I've no idea _what _they were, in fact, doing, since they kept me distracted with questions."

"And I'm sure I don't want to know," Demeter sighed wearily. "Let's get you back to your den now. Would you like me to carry you?"

"No, I'll be fi—" Demeter suddenly found herself having to catch the tuxedo tomkit to save him from falling into a snoring heap on the floor.

"I'm sure you've a good reason for being out here at this hour," Demeter told Munkustrap, lifting the sleeping kitten easily in her arms. "Just try to keep the little ones out of it from now on, please?" She glanced pointedly towards MacVitie before turning to leave.

* * *

"I don't suppose," Munkustrap inquired when she had gone, "you'd like to talk about what's going on between—"

_"No," _MacVitie cut in firmly. "There's been enough strangeness here tonight without bringing anyone else into it. Please, Munkus. I'd prefer to deal with…_that_ particular situation…later." _Much, much later. Better yet, never… _"Let's just return to the matter at paw: what to do about our unwanted-visitor-who-could-be-dangerous-but-nothing-is-certain-because-he-didn't-actually-tell-us-anything."

"Fair enough," Munk groaned, rubbing a paw across his forehead. "But first," he added, "Quaxo."

"Oh, that I can explain in less than a minute—because what I know is next to nothing. The kit knows things he's no business knowing, and can do things he's no business being able to do."

"But is clearly unaware that there's anything strange or abnormal about his abilities, yes? I'd _possibly _call the 'knowing' simply 'being good at reading others,' but that…blue lightning, or whatever it was, and his supposedly opening the boot without being anywhere near it? I suppose Coricopat and Tantomile could shed some light on the matter..."

MacVitie shook his head. "That's the frightening thing. He baffles even them. Tantomile could only say, 'He's gifted.'"

"Well," Munkustrap shrugged, "I don't suppose there's anything much to worry about…"

"Apart from his powers growing as he grows and his accidentally harming someone?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Yes, he'll have to learn caution, and that can't happen until he realizes he _has _these abilities. Let's hope the twins can help with that. But for now, he's just a kitten. He's not…"

"Not ready? Like Cassandra and Alonzo 'weren't ready' to learn about their families?"

Munkustrap jerked back as if his younger brother had struck him a blow to the face. "Mack…"

"That was low," MacVitie added hastily, immediately regretting his words. "I only mean…let's not…wait too long…we don't want our telling him to be made necessary by someone's getting accidentally hurt."

"Agreed." Munkustrap's tone remained subdued, and MacVitie for the first time stopped to consider the toll this day must be taking on his older brother.

Only… He really had no idea. Once, Munkustrap had offered to tell about that night and MacVitie had stopped him: desperate as he'd been to know, he'd been more desperate to save Munkustrap the pain caused by even the mention of the Dispute. But today, he'd abruptly and unhesitatingly asked—practically demanded—the knowledge from his brother, right then and there. Yes, it had been important. But MacVitie still ought to have shown some concern for Munkustrap—he hadn't even asked exactly _what _it was that haunted the silver tabby. Instead, all he'd thought of was confronting Growltiger and getting information: as much for the sake of satisfying his own curiosity as for the sake of protecting the Tribe. And yet, now that they'd seen Growltiger, they knew little more than they'd already known; but Munkustrap still had to live with whatever inner battle he was experiencing, while MacVitie had behaved and spoken as if he couldn't care less.

"Well," Munkustrap resumed, attempting a heartier tone, "meanwhile… Can we conceive of a plan in which we figure out what Growltiger is up to without putting ourselves and others at risk—Mack…?"

MacVitie had turned away and was scanning the area, as if making sure no one else was about. "Catnip," he muttered, shaking his head. "Double and triple catnip…" He turned back round. "Munk, Growltiger can wait. Sit." Munkustrap was so startled, he obeyed without a moment's hesitation, though his face clearly expressed concern over MacVitie's mental wellbeing. Ignoring the look, MacVitie sat down beside him. "First, know that if you mention this to _anyone ever, _you are going to die the horrible and painful death a hundred times over. Clear?"

"Mention what?"

_"This_, you great oaf." Before he could persuade himself otherwise, the ginger tom scooted right up against Munkustrap, wrapped his arms around him, and laid his head on the silver tom's shoulder—something he hadn't done since they were kits. It felt ridiculous, and probably looked so. But in that moment, MacVitie knew of no better measure to turn to.

For much of their kittenhood, there had been an unspoken agreement among the three brothers: 'snuggling' was only permitted under one of two extenuating circumstances—the worst of nightmares or the coldest of weather. No matter how loudly any of them might speak against it as 'babyish' in the daylight, in the moment of need none thought the worse of another for seeking warmth or comfort from another cat's presence. It was one of the few things Tugger and MacVitie had ever agreed upon—and then, neither would audibly admit to agreeing on it.

Now they were nearly fullgrown, and here MacVitie sat holding his great big muscly brother as if they were still newkits in their den and one of them had awakened mewling from night terrors. "Tell me about that night—and I don't mean the 'facts' of what you know occurred. Tell me what happened to _you." _

Munkustrap attempted—quite feebly, MacVitie noted with a small smirk—to object. "What…that's…Mack, it's unimportant now, what matters is that we…"

"Rubbish," MacVitie cut in, though from the sound of his voice Munk couldn't have kept it together long enough to continue in any case. "You listen to me, and you listen good and proper. _Of course _it matters, you dolt. If you like, you can think of it this way: you'll be no help in this situation or any other, no use to _anyone_, if you continue to walk around scarred for life from whatever it is you saw that night and never talk it out with someone." He was more reciting the sort of speech Deuteronomy would give on the matter than saying what he actually thought. MacVitie could be quite the brooder himself; "talking it out" was certainly not _his _forte. But he more or less knew it was what one _ought _to do; and it would surely make sense to Munkustrap, who "talked things out" with others about _their _feelings on a nearly daily basis but often neglected to deal with his own.

Munkustrap looked up sharply. "What do you mean—what makes you think I saw something?"

"Only," MacVitie shrugged, "that I have trouble believing the kitten-friendly account Dad would have first given you could possibly tear into you the way _something _clearly has. And…you _were _off 'hunting food' for quite a while." He watched his brother expectantly, though he half-hoped Munkustrap would prove him wrong—_no, nothing as terrible as all that happened, in fact I am brooding, but it's over something entirely unrelated and can be dealt with some other time, _and so forth. Indeed, for a moment it looked as though Munkustrap would open his mouth and start in on just such an explanation.

But all at once, MacVitie saw him give way. Then he knew that there _was _something, something Munkustrap felt he _had _to say—because he had no way to conceal it any longer apart from flat-out lying. "All right. You've got me." Now that he'd committed to sharing, the silver tabby seemed strangely calm. MacVitie hoped this meant he'd been right to insist, and hadn't simply made matters worse. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on his brother. "Please understand, I've not told you this before because…well, for one, what happened that night was awful enough without any more vivid details surfacing. And then, too, every time I've thought of it…I've…worried that it might get back to Cassandra—that she might find out in the wrong way." Munkustrap held up a paw. "I know _you're_ trustworthy. But…there are all sorts of ears round about the junkyard." At that, the silver tabby sent a quick, sharp glance around.

"He's sound asleep, remember?" MacVitie prompted, guessing whom Munk had thought of. "And," he added, "if you're thinking of Coricopat and Tantomile…I don't think it's even possible to conceal anything from _them." _

"Right." Munkustrap didn't look as though that fact reassured him, but continued regardless. "I went, as you remember, looking for food. I've told you that. What I haven't told you is that I came across Dad and the others returning. They didn't see me," he added quickly. "And I stopped and kept out of sight—truth be told, for the moment I forgot their mission and only feared I'd be in trouble for being out of the 'yard so late." He grinned weakly. "But then…They paused a moment, I suppose to rest, and I noticed that they were covered all over in blood, almost head to tail, every one of them." He shuddered. MacVitie buried his face in Munk's shoulder fur, afraid to speak. "Mum—Dad—Jelly—Jenny—Skimble—Peter—even Jelly's father, Old Asparagus, had gone along to help. I couldn't ever imagine any of them laying a paw on another cat in anger, not ever. Yet their appearances suggested otherwise. Dad said something akin to, 'We should wash up as best we can. No need to frighten the young ones.' He was carrying something and shifted it to the other shoulder—I thought at first it was some sort of large bag or sack, but…it was Hecuba. Cassandra's mother," he added, realizing MacVitie may not have remembered her name. No one intended to behave as if Cassandra's parents never existed, but as no one quite knew how to speak of them either, they had managed to become an unofficially forbidden subject all the same. "Her…body, limp as a rag doll."

MacVitie looked up. "And…her dad?" he ventured. "Gilbert, was it?"

"Gilbert, yes. He…" Munk shook his head. "I don't know. He wasn't there."

"You mean—he could still be alive?"

"It's possible," Munk admitted reluctantly, "but…"

"Great Heaviside!" Mack all but yowled, leaping to his footpaws, "did no one ever _look _for him?"

"Shh, Mack," Munkustrap pleaded, "please…I don't know." MacVitie forced himself to be seated again and listen. "Think, MacVitie," his brother continued, "if he'd been alive, wouldn't he have returned with the others? That he didn't return most likely indicates that…he was killed and his body was maimed beyond recognition, or…he joined Growltiger's gang."

"Those _can't _be the only two options," MacVitie insisted. "Suppose he was _forced_ to stay. Suppose he made some sort of bargain with Growltiger, one he couldn't escape, like Alonzo's parents." The ginger tom shuddered. Is that what would happen to him and Munkustrap if they investigated this mystery any further? _Be killed or join him_—was that what became of anycat who crossed the Tiger? But they _had _to continue investigating, all the same…the Tribe was in danger, he knew it…they'd simply have to outwit their adversary…some way…

"You're right," Munkustrap acknowledged. "But… at the time, I only saw Hecuba. Gilbert didn't enter my mind until much later, and then I was certain he must be dead. There was no one I could ask, to confirm or deny this. That's no excuse," he added quickly, "and I'm realizing more and more how cowardly my stance has been, but… I've no excuses or explanations, MacVitie. I'm only telling you what I did and thought."

"And _I've _no call to question or berate you," returned MacVitie, regretting his outburst. "When," he added in a hoarse whisper, "I did _nothing." _

"You were practically a newkit," Munk objected. "You couldn't have known."

"Please finish," MacVitie said, having no answer for that last. "I won't interrupt again, promise."

"Not much left to tell," Munkustrap sighed. "I hurried to get home before the adults so they wouldn't suspect I'd been out and seen them. You'd fallen asleep, but I left you on your 'lookout perch' because I knew you'd be annoyed if I moved you. I waited for Mum and Dad to return, but only saw Dad. I guess Mum went straight to bed, too shaken to do or say anything more that night. Dad asked me, very nonchalantly, if I'd mind very much fetching little Cassandra from her humans' house for a visit. I'd guess it was because he feared Growltiger knew where she lived and might go after her next. I brought her back here and…that was that." He shook his head. "Mack, she asked several times about her parents. 'When Mummy be here?' she'd ask, just like that. I'd lie to her; I'd tell her, 'Soon.' After about a month, she stopped asking altogether. I told myself I'd tell her, explain everything one day, when she was old enough to understand. As you can see…that still hasn't happened. Again with my bloody cowardice…"

"Enough," MacVitie interrupted firmly. "Before, you were only protecting her. Now…well, she's not exactly the easiest queen to strike up a conversation with. But I know you'll find a way," he added. "Folk…you may not realize this, but they trust you. I don't doubt you could get anyone to speak to you about anything, if you set your mind to it. I'm sure Cassandra's the same; it's not as if you're strangers, and after all, you helped take care of her as much as you did for _all _us younger kits. If you simply explain to her, in the frank, honest way you just told me…it still may be the most awkward conversation of the century, and she may be angry, but…you'll have_ told_ her and finally got it over with. And she can make her own decision on what to do with the knowledge. All the same… It may be best we get the Growltiger situation dealt with first." He couldn't imagine Cassandra going on her own personal vendetta against the tiger tom, but…one never knew.

"Which brings us back to where we started," Munkustrap concluded, sounding almost relieved. Apparently the prospect of hatching a plan to rid the Jellicles of a dangerous enemy was less intimidating than that of speaking to anyone about her past—which, to be fair, MacVitie could certainly sympathise with. Unfortunately, he felt no more enlightened as to how to 'deal with' Growltiger than he had done when the conversation had begun.

"Right," Mack muttered glumly. "Any new ideas?"

"No," Munkustrap admitted. "Anything that comes to mind amounts to a repeat of what Dad and the others did last time. Only… Worse, because Growltiger hasn't actually _done _anything yet, that we know of. So he could claim we were confronting him unprovoked."

"Come to that. What _did _he do before? I know Dad said the whole reason he was banished had to do with ill-treatment of humans…"

"That's all he's really told me, as well. I don't quite understand what a feline could really manage to _do _to a human—simply put, they've got the advantage on us in sheer size alone. But apparently Dad was concerned enough that he actually felt the humans _needed _our protection. Growltiger had some elaborate scheme…but Dad never found out exactly what it was. From what I can gather, Growltiger only ever harmed a Jellicle in the first place because we stood in the way of this scheme."

MacVitie frowned. "This makes so little sense. But at least that's _something. _If we could just find out this 'scheme,' it'd be one mark to our advantage at any rate."

"It's obvious what we need," spoke a familiar voice nearby. MacVitie jumped up and hurriedly put as much distance between himself and Munkustrap as possible, as though his brother were a stick of dynamite.

"Just _how many _cats are out and about still?" the ginger tom exclaimed. "Well, come on, show yourself."

"Might as well do, Alonzo," Munkustrap agreed with a weary sigh, standing up as well.

The harlequin stepped out of the shadows, looking somewhat sheepish, yet determined. "I was patrolling," he said, before Munkustrap could speak again. "As you asked me to, Munk. Because you had 'something important to attend to.' I suppose now I know what."

"So you just _happened_ to stroll by and stop to listen to a private conversation?" MacVitie asked, glaring.

"You figured to sort this all out yourselves, just the two of you?" Alonzo countered.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

"Enough?" Munkustrap interrupted, coming between the two toms before this became an all-out face-off. He looked searchingly into Alonzo's face. How much was 'enough'? Had he heard the bits about himself…? Alonzo didn't exactly look like a cat who'd just learnt his parents were working for the enemy—_listen to that, I've already labeled Growltiger 'enemy' in my mind. _But it could be the harlequin was merely in shock or putting on a brave face. "Alonzo, are you…?"

"No," Alonzo held up a paw dismissively, "don't bring anything personal into it now. All _that_ can be dealt with later, say, when we're none of us in danger of our lives. I meant, I heard enough to know that the first priority is finding out the Tiger's plan. To do that, we need someone on the inside. And I can't believe I'm saying this," he persevered, despite the other two toms' beginning to protest, "but we need to involve Coricopat or Tantomile or both. It's time they put their abilities to good use. Someone's got to determine just how much of a liar this Growltiger is."


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Munkustrap and MacVitie crawled into their family's den, utterly spent, the sun had already begun to rise.

"Do we _really _think this is going to…?" MacVitie began, but Munk cut him off.

"Later," the silver tabby said. "Let's get some shuteye. After all, we need it: things are about to get exciting around here very soon…" Before even completing that thought, Munk had dropped off to sleep.

MacVitie supposed he should try to do the same. He made his way further into the den, and let himself fall into a heap on the pile of rags that he used as a bed. Immediately, he jumped back up again.

He had landed on something small, soft, warm, and very alive: whatever it was had said "Eep!" in protest to being landed on.

"What're you _doing _here?" he groaned, squinting into the dim light of the den to try to see who it even was. "Can a cat not get any sleep?"

"But it's morning already, Vitie," said the calm, reasonable, unmistakable voice of little Quaxo.

MacVitie sighed. "You were up late. Thought you'd sleep longer. Anyway, what are you doing in _my _bed?" he repeated.

_"You _haven't slept at all," Quaxo observed cheerily. "Is it because you and Munkustrap were up all night discussing that scary tom?"

"Keep your voice down," MacVitie shushed him. "You should not even know about that, and you _can't _let anyone else know, understood? We are not going to tell you anything more about him, because he's too dangerous. So if_ that's_ why you're here…"

"Oh, understood completely. Who would I _talk_ to about it anyway? Plato and Admetus are too little to know such a big secret." As if Quaxo _wasn't_ too little to know such a big secret. "So I won't say anything more about it, even though I _want_ to know so awfully much. No, I came to tell you that Bombalurina wants to talk to you."

"Bomba?" MacVitie frowned. _That_ was unusual… "Did she say why?"

"Oh, no. In fact, she didn't even _ask_ me to tell you. But I was passing by her, and heard that she wanted to talk to you. It was important." As Bomba was not in the habit of talking out loud to herself, MacVitie could only imagine Quaxo's 'sharp instincts' had been of use yet again.

MacVitie put a paw to his forehead. "Well…guess I can sleep…later." He allowed himself one enormous yawn before making his way out of the den—after being in it for less than ten minutes. He stared enviously at the sleeping Munkustrap as he left.

* * *

Outside, he glanced around for Bomba.

"I think she went to sit up on the old car," Quaxo suggested helpfully. MacVitie looked over at the kit.

"Are you planning to come along…?" he tried to hint.

"Of course not!" Quaxo assured him. _"I'm_ not going to listen in on a private conversation!" _Right. _"So if it's all the same to you, I'm going to find myself a mouse and then see if my friends are still asleep. See you later!" And the tuxedo tom was off like a bolt.

MacVitie shook his head, exhausted just watching the kit. If only he were older. Someone so quick-moving _and _quick-witted could be a great asset to helping with their situation… But no. He'd better not go getting ideas that Munk would kill him for later. _Better go see what Bomba wants. _Remembering that she had not actually sent for him, he wandered as aimlessly as he could in the general direction of the old auto. He glanced about, trying to look for Bomba without _actually _looking for her.

"Mackey!" called a queen's voice. _Well. That was easy. _He looked up to see Bomba sitting atop the car, motioning him to join her. "We've got to talk." MacVitie slowly crawled up the vehicle to sit next to her, certain he was about to get a lecture from the older queen...perhaps about his and Demeter's argument, which neither had _exactly_ apologised for. Bombalurina and Demeter might have _ten_ arguments a day, and it wouldn't matter: neither sister would stand for what she saw as 'mistreatment' of the other by _anyone else_. Though Mack supposed it was the same way with him and Munkustrap.

"Right," Bomba commenced without any preamble, "it's obvious what we've got to do, isn't it?" She waited, and it took MacVitie a moment to realize she actually wanted a response.

"Do?" he repeated, startled. "About what?"

"Thickheads, the both of them," she muttered, raising her eyes Heaviside-ward as if for help. "About the Ball, you dolt!"

MacVitie shook his head, still not following. It was difficult even to think of the Ball when he, Munkustrap, and Alonzo had something to attend to that seemed so much bigger. But then, at least the Ball would serve as a good distraction for the others. "The Ball? I'll…not be there much…Dad wants us to take turns patrolling…"

"You're _completely _off the point," the scarlet queen sighed. "Listen. You need to ask me to the Ball."

"I—_wha?"_ The ginger tom gaped. Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't _this. _For one, he'd not intended to ask _anyone. _The prospect was far too terrifying—and suppose the one he asked said _no?_ He'd have to deal with the humiliation of going alone and everyone knowing he'd failed to find a 'date,' which was why he'd planned to use 'patrolling' as an excuse to skip most of the Ball altogether. For another, if he _had _asked anyone, it wouldn't have been Bomba. It'd been obvious (at least, MacVitie _thought_ it had been obvious) since they were newkits which tom _her _cap was set for. Far be it from him to interfere with fate! "But you don't even _like _me," he blurted out before he could really consider what to say. At least he'd managed not to say 'I don't even like _you.' _

"Of _course _not," Bombalurina sighed, looking ready to tear her headfur out. "No more do _you _like _me." _This was without doubt the strangest conversation he had ever had: he was no expert, but did toms and queens normally have to have a whole discussion just to let each other know they _couldn't stand each other? _What _was _this?

"Well then…ah…if that's all…?" Mack fumbled awkwardly for a way to close the conversation.

"No, that is _not _all," the queen growled, seizing his shoulder fur to stop him leaving. "You're an even bigger dolt than I took you for! Look, here's how it is: I've known the both of you since you were born. Maybe _you_, being an idiot, still haven't noticed, but it's obvious you not only adore each other, but would be perfect together—"

"I'm—sorry—me and—who…?"

Patience utterly spent, Bomba seized Mack by both shoulders and pulled his face as close as possible to hers. (MacVitie dearly hoped no one was watching.) "You mean I've got to spell it out for you? So you've _not _noticed. Typical. Toms never figure out what they feel until it's too late. No…Not _too late_. They _never_ figure out how they feel, period. I'm talking about you and my_ sister, _you eejit. The one you've not spoken to in twelve hours?" _She keeps count of how often we speak? _

"Demeter?" His mouth dropped open. "Bomba…you've got this all wrong, we're just friends, we might not even be _that_ any more, she's clearly angry at me, and…" he babbled unintelligibly.

"Well, whose fault is _that, _idiot? All you needed to _do _was apologize."

MacVitie frowned. "I didn't _do_ anything that needs apolo—"

"Yes you did. But never mind," she growled, holding up a paw. "That's beside the point in any case. She's _not _just upset with you over the stupid car incident! Don't you even know _anything_…? 'Just friends'? 'Just friends,' my eyetooth. It may have escaped your notice, but you're not just kits chasing mice and goofing off together anymore. Noticed her lately? She's gorgeous. Don't _tell_ me it's escaped your notice. You're not half-bad-looking, yourself. Your brains just need to catch your looks up, is all. If you two didn't _care _anything about each other, you couldn't be _mad _at each other. Get it?"

_"Stop," _MacVitie interrupted, finding his voice again with difficulty. _I should have talked all this out with Munkus when he gave me the chance. _This_ is torture. _"Listen. Even if what you say is true: why on earth did you just ask me to ask _you _to the Ball, then?"

"I was _coming _to that. Unfortunately for you, a little bird told me that Demeter's already got a date to the Ball. She won't say who."

"I _told _you," MacVitie exclaimed, exasperated. To his own surprise, his spirits drooped a little at the news. "We're only friends, and she's not speaking to me until I-don't-know-when. She doesn't like _me,_ she likes whoever it is she's going with. Heaviside, Bomba, I can't _believe _I'm even having this conversation!"

"Well, it's about _time_," she countered. "Clearly you need it. Look. Just because she agreed to _go_ with someone else doesn't mean she _likes_ them better. As you said, she's angry at you. She's doing it to make you _jealous, _idiot. And you're going to do likewise."

MacVitie blinked. He'd heard of these dirty tricks somefolk played on each other to 'make a point' and get each other's attention. But he didn't believe in a million years Demeter would behave that way. At least, not unless someone suggested it. "By asking _you_ instead of the one I _really_ want to ask?" he blurted out without thinking. He let out a gasp, and clamped his jaws shut as if trying to chomp on the words and take them back.

Bomba grinned triumphantly. "See? You _do _want to ask her, you can't deny it. And, yes, good for you, you've got it. It's a perfect plan, isn't it?"

"Not so fast. First of all, it's a _diabolical _plan! Second of all, who are _you _trying to 'make jealous'?" If Bomba got to force _him_ to bring his private thoughts out in the open, it was only fair he got to do the same. The scarlet queen didn't answer, only glared at him for daring to be so bold. But in this case, he didn't really need to be told. "Look. If you want _my_ opinion, which I'm sure you don't, but here it is: you waste your time with my brother. Tugger enjoys being adored by _all_ the queens far too much to be willing to settle down with _one_—at least, not for a long time. And another thing: there's nothing but fluff between his ears. If you're waiting for him to ask you, he's…probably not even thought about it. He never thinks beyond what human hair product he can try on his fur next."

"Rubbish," Bomba snapped. "You know nothing. You _wouldn't _know, would you. Since when do you and he keep one another informed of your personal lives? He's just a slow-thinking idiot...rather like yourself. All the brains went to your brother Munkustrap. And anyway, who says I even _like—?_ Ah…" She blundered, realizing she'd more or less given herself away. "Look," she persevered, "will you ask me to the Ball or not?"

He did not care for Bomba's plan at all. "Look, Bomba," he attempted, "I'm sure you know more about these things than me, but this just seems low and cruel all around."

"You're exactly right, I know _heaps _more than you. He'll—she'll be angry for a while, but it'll get her attention, and you'll _have_ to seize the opportunity to talk with her and sort everything out before it's too late."

"And the same with you and Tugger?"

She went on, ignoring that last, "And once you've confessed your love, the rest will take care of itself."

"Confess my—" MacVitie's blood ran cold. Just how _fast _did Bomba's mind work?! He'd only just begun coming to grips with the idea that there was a _very slight chance _he had some sort of feelings for Demeter, and here out of the blue Bomba was already speaking of _love. _"Look," he growled, his terror (and exhaustion from not sleeping all night) making him act angrier than he was, "don't get ahead of yourself. In any case, as I said, I'll not have _time_ to stay at the Ball the whole night. Is getting left on your own part of the grand plan?"

"Just talk to me a bit and ask me for a few dances," she insisted. "That's enough to be noticed. You'll still be able to go off and play hero to your heart's content. Only take care you get Demeter on her own to speak to her—if not at the Ball itself, not too many days after. Before the magic fades." The word 'magic' reminded him that he was meant to find Coricopat and Tantomile… This could be his out.

"Look, Bomba… Fine. Please come to the Ball with me," he said rashly. Not even waiting for her response, he went on, "Now I've got to find Cori and talk over the plan for patrol." He hurried away as if the car were on fire, but could practically feel Bomba's triumphant smirk whacking him in the back of the head as he left.

* * *

He didn't actually _need_ to find the twins yet, since Munk wanted to be along for the conversation and was still sleeping…so, might as well get some sleep himself. _Finally. _

But even as he gratefully stretched out on his bed of rags, he couldn't altogether silence a nagging thought in the back of his mind: _Who _is_ going with Demeter to the Ball?_

* * *

What seemed only moments later, MacVitie was awakened by a sudden jolt. Forcing his tired eyes open, he noticed that he was—not _on_ his bed but _beside_ it. "Weird," he muttered. "I never fall out of—" Suddenly, he was seized by the scruff and hauled to his feet. Blinking sleep dust from his eyes, he found himself looking into the very unhappy face of Tugger. "What is it _now?" _he complained, too tired to be more than mildly annoyed. "Could you not see I was—"

"You," Tugger interrupted, pointing an accusing claw at him. "Explain. Now."

"Explain _what?" _

"Don't play dumb. Thought it'd be funny, did you? Of course you did. Think because you're Mummy and Daddy's ickle babbykit you can just take whatever you want? Well, _I'm_ here to tell you…"

"Hoi. You know you're _wearing _it, right?" Tugger stared. "Your precious mane," MacVitie prompted. _"That's_ what this is about, isn't it?"

"Mane? _Mane? Who gives a rat's ear about a stupid mane?" _Tugger tore the contraption off and threw it into his corner of the den. "What do you _mean _by stealing my date?"

"Stealing—? Which one? Don't you consider them _all _yours?"

_"Bombalurina," _hissed the leopard tom. The only thing keeping him from screaming aloud was Munkustrap still sleeping a few feet away—not because he'd wake and lose his rest, but because he'd wake and overhear and stop Tugger doing what he wanted, which at the moment was to throttle MacVitie. "I just went and asked her to the Ball. Turns out she's going with someone _else. _Who might _that_ be, now?"

Now it all became clear. Well, not _clear_. MacVitie had difficulty wrapping his mind around the fact that Tugger actually had a preference for one queen above the others, _and _had actually thought to ask her to the Ball. But—didn't that mean Bomba could forget her whole scheme? Why hadn't she just said 'yes' to Tugger and let MacVitie know she no longer needed his help? No skin off _his _nose. But no…She wanted to let Tugger suffer long and hard, it seemed. And...while Mack didn't exactly object to letting Tugger suffer, he _did _object to being used as a pawn in this scheme.

Never mind all that. He had to explain the situation before his brother went berserk. "Listen, Tugger, it's like this…" he began, then re-thought his approach. Suppose he milked this for all it was worth? Bomba wanted Tugger to pay attention, and this would certainly do the trick; it would also be nice having the upper paw for once. It wasn't as if Tugger would _kill _him. And MacVitie could hold his own now in such a fight, in any case. Perhaps this was the time for them to have it out once and for all. "It's like this," he resumed, allowing one corner of his mouth to pull up into a satisfied smirk. "Bombalurina prefers me over you as a date to the Ball. Is that so difficult to believe? Perhaps it's _you _who needs to learn he can't have everything, dear brother."

For a moment Tugger could only stare at his brother, puffing and blowing like a walrus. When he did speak, his voice came out in a whine. "Since when do _you _care anything about getting a date to the Ball anyway? You _know _I've planned for months on the best way to ask her and I'm putting together this whole song just for her and—and—" Munkustrap stirred. Tugger glanced at the awakening silver tabby and turned back to shake his fist in MacVitie's face once more. "You wait," he hissed. "You'll be one sorry kit one of these days…" He ran from the den.

"She also says I'm _much _handsomer than you," MacVitie called after his brother, for good measure.

"MacVitie?" Munkustrap yawned. "How late is it?"

"Not even midday yet," MacVitie assured him. "We can sleep a bit more. I just, ah…got woken up briefly."

"So I heard." Munkustrap glanced keenly into his younger brother's face. MacVitie gulped, wondering how much he had heard. "Care to share what that was about?"

The ginger tom almost said no, then thought better of it. "Oh, why not._ Someone_ intelligent may as well be in on this ridiculous situation." He briefly explained Bomba's 'plan' and his involvement, and Tugger's reaction soon after. At his mention that Demeter was apparently going with someone else, Munkustrap looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"I can't _believe _this," the silver tabby moaned, holding his head in his paws.

"What now?" Just how elaborate _was _Bomba's scheme? _Maybe we should get her in on the Growltiger solution… _

"Vitie…I'm sorry… _I'm _the one who asked Demeter to the Ball. I didn't think you were going to ask her," the silver tabby went on hastily. "That is, Bomba had told me Demeter did not have a date to the Ball yet and was beginning to feel hurt. She asked if I would take her, just as a friend, you know. I said I thought _you'd_ be asking…er, that is…that Demeter and you would like to go together. This was early yesterday, before we knew of the Growltiger situation, of course…I'd not be taking _anyone _if I'd known about that…But Bomba…"

"She said I was already going with someone else, didn't she?"

"Precisely. I'm sorry, Mack, if I'd known…"

"Great Heaviside." MacVitie pounded the floor in exasperation. "And _she _wants to go with Tugger, but insists on going with _me! _And now Tugger will ask someone else to make _her _jealous, which is no doubt what she wanted all along. Why can't those two just settle matters once and for all, why've they got to use _us..."_

"Perhaps we can still save the situation," Munkustrap ventured. "I'll simply explain to Demeter that you…"

_"No. _Bomba's already complicated things enough without us _re-_complicating them. We'll have to simply suffer through… Or, you know, forget everything and just spend the entire night working on our tiger problem and let the queens just feel abandoned, whatever."

"Mackey…don't you think it would be better…"

"No," MacVitie repeated. "No, Munk. You don't understand. Before all this, I had no intention whatsoever of taking _anycat_ to the Ball. Trying to glue this situation back together would inevitably bring about a conversation with Demeter that _I am not ready to have. _Do you understand that well enough without my saying more?" He shook his head. "Then again…no. Why not? Might as well be completely frank here and get it over with. I _already_ want to eat rat poison." He took a deep breath, grimaced, then soldiered on. "Up until about an hour ago, I saw Demeter as only a friend—and a friend who wasn't currently _speaking_ to me, at that. Anything more was not…what would your humans say…not on my radar, about her or anyone else. At least, I didn't _think _so. Talking with Bomba—being talked _at _by Bomba, more accurately—my views began to take on the _slightest _change. I began thinking differently of Demeter—maybe even…uh…_feeling _differently, too. They say that's a thing that happens. I don't know. The point is, I don't understand it, and it's not sorted, _none _of it…whatever 'it' is. I wouldn't mind considering it further when I've got the time, but Heaviside! Could there be a _worse_ time! We've got a crisis on our paws, I can't sit about thinking on _feelings. _And then Bomba jumps straight into talking about…" He glanced over his shoulder. "…_Love. _As if I could be anywhere _near _there yet! And insists I've got to get Demeter on her own to talk with her and 'sort everything out,' when I've not even sorted _myself _out! And am not likely to soon…and…most importantly…Growltiger," he finished lamely, running out of steam. "The point is, Munk," he groaned, "if you try to repair the situation now, I'll only have to speak with her sooner. At least if I go along with Bomba's plan I can stall. Either way, I'm not going to have the _slightest notion_ what to say. Maybe there will be an attack, and we'll be so busy defending the 'yard…that can be my excuse…"

"Don't say that," Munkustrap interrupted sharply. "MacVitie," he continued in a more mellow tone, "I…don't know what to say." He gave an awkward gulp. "I feel…honored is a stupid word to use here, but I can't think of a better one…that you'd…share that much with me. I had no idea you were…"

"So complicated?" MacVitie supplied. "Nor did I. You understand, of course, this does not go any further than the two of us. Now…suppose we move onto more important matters and leave these personal issues to be dealt with afterward."

"Agreed," Munkustrap nodded, though he looked rather uneasy. There seemed to be a lot of things they were 'leaving till later.' But was that not right? Nothing could be more important than what they had to do concerning the threat of Growltiger. "Not quite midday? Let's get another hour's shuteye and then track down the twins."

MacVitie nodded. Ordinary life must still be attended to to _some _extent, at least…


	6. Chapter 6

"You really think they'll agree to help, 'Lonz?" Munkustrap was asking as the three toms wandered through the Junkyard, more or less waiting for Coricopat and Tantomile to 'sense' what was needed and show themselves.

"They will," Alonzo promised, jaw set determinedly. "Couldn't really call themselves part of the Tribe if they didn't, could they?"

Munkustrap frowned. "That's a bit harsh…"

"He's right, though," MacVitie interrupted. "Think on it, Munk. How long they've either kept their powers to themselves, or used them to play tricks on the rest of us."

"They haven't done _that _in some time," Munk objected. "That was just normal kittenish foolery…"

"The point is," Alonzo went on, "now we've come to a time where their…particular talents…are _really _needed. Surely they'll see that, and help."

They all kept saying 'help,' MacVitie observed silently, which made it sound like this was about nothing more serious than an abnormally large object needing to be moved, or some such notion.

"All right, you've both got a point," the silver tabby sighed. "But about the _other_ bit of your plan, Alonzo…I still don't like it."

"You don't have to like it, Munk, you've been outvoted," MacVitie informed him. He hated to keep disagreeing with his brother, but Alonzo was right on this one: the best—perhaps the only—way was to send someone in to spy on Growltiger's gang from the inside and determine their plan. Munkustrap knew this _was_ the best plan, practically speaking; but he was also still trying to keep everyone safe, and knew that going down this road involved possible risk and loss. Whereas Alonzo knew this as well, and was _willing_ to take those risks on. Actually accomplishing this might not be so easy, however… "But," he added, looking at Alonzo, "I still say _I_ should be the one…"

_"No," _the harlequin said firmly. "We all know that of the three of us, if something untoward happened, I'd be the least missed. _I'm _going in."

"Alonzo," Munkustrap ventured in a mild tone, "are you certain you've no ulterior motives for wanting to be the one…?"

"Don't worry on _that_ score," Alonzo growled. "I've said. No attending to personal matters until the real crisis has been averted. You can depend upon it, I fully intend to follow my own diktat."

MacVitie exchanged a glance with his brother, wondering if Munkustrap were thinking along the same lines: First—that perhaps this 'real crisis,' as the black-and-white termed it, was just the thing to knock Alonzo into shape and remind him that protecting the Tribe was more important than fooling around and showing off. Second—now that he was beginning to show himself such a strong asset to the Tribe, were they about to lose him? They might, if they went along with his plan…

"All I'm saying," MacVitie persisted nonetheless, "is that _I_ may have an easier time convincing him. I'm not sure how, but Munk and I already seem to have some sort of pawhold with Growltiger…"

"It's obvious," Alonzo interrupted, growing impatient. "He's closest with _your _family because he used to be Old Deuteronomy's chief friend. But no doubt if it's done right, he'll gladly take on _any_ Jellicle who decides to betray your father and join him."

"We may not need to go _that_ far, anyway," Munk reminded them, still holding onto hope. "If we can accomplish what's needed simply by talking with him and if the twins can determine whether he speaks true…"

"But that's _not _stopping it," Alonzo sighed. "You _know _it's not, Munk. If we know and can't _do_ anything about it—what then? As you've said yourself, even if we told your father and involved every fighter we've got and confronted him…we're still outnumbered. It would be the Dispute all over again: we'd be devastated, while his gang would barely suffer a scratch, and he'd soon gather more numbers."

"He's got an agenda," MacVitie added. "His is a gang with goals and plans, while we're…"

"A family," Munk supplied, realization beginning to dawn on him.

"A family," Alonzo agreed, "which is all any of us wants. But it also means we're no army. We've not trained every single tribe-member for combat. We're not prepared to deal with a situation like this through force, so…"

"Stealth," MacVitie concluded.

"Aye, stealth." The harlequin gave an involuntary shudder. "Let's hope we're stealthy enough to stay alive."

* * *

The three toms reached the front entrance to the Junkyard and came to a halt. Munkustrap glanced around. "Still no twins, then…" he began. MacVitie elbowed him and gestured silently towards the top of the rubbish heap closest to them. Looking up to see what the ginger tom was on about, Munkustrap and Alonzo laid eyes on two felines: one was Tugger, keeping watch—which was somewhat of a relief, as he was meant to be on patrol but could not always be relied on to remember. The other was Tantomile—which was not exactly surprising as she'd been known to make one of Tugger's 'entourage' before. What _was _surprising was the fact that she didn't immediately turn about and notice them. Clearly she was so occupied by whatever she and Tugger were discussing, that three more felines' presence didn't even register in her senses. _That _was somewhat disconcerting, since they were relying on her and Coricopat's abilities for the first bit of Alonzo's plan.

"Well. _One _of them's a bit busy at the moment," Alonzo observed. MacVitie thought he detected bitterness in the harlequin's tone, but decided to take a page out of Alonzo's book and determine to ignore any personal issues that did not directly relate to the matter at paw. As such, he made no comment in that regard, but moved on.

"Coricopat's bound to be nearby," MacVitie said. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Mack spun about and found himself facing the very tom he'd just mentioned.

"You were looking for me," Cori stated, for once displaying the slightest bit of irritation. MacVitie supposed it was annoyance with Tantomile and not with him, Munk, or Alonzo, but it still surprised him to see one of the twins in any state that wasn't utterly calm and cool.

"Yes," said Munkustrap, "and for Tanto as well, but…" He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, not needing to state what they all could plainly see.

"I imagine she'll be along presently," Coricopat said through slightly clenched teeth. "She is not responding to my contacts at the moment, so…in the meantime…" He seemed, with great difficulty, to remove his focus from his sister and try to understand what the other three toms wanted. Unlike Tantomile, who liked to be _told _things aloud even when she knew them, Cori was not so particular. In fact, he disliked listening to long, often confused, explanations, when he could easily get the gist himself by mind-melding with the correct party. Knowing this, none of the other three toms felt rude waiting silently for Coricopat to come to grips with their plan on his own.

After a few moments, Coricopat shook his head. "It's never going to work."

"Of course _you'd_ say that," said Alonzo, folding his arms defiantly. "You may be a telepath, but—correct me if I'm wrong—you can't just straight-up _see_ the future played out as if in a theatre."

"Alonzo," Munkustrap put in mildly, "we _did _ask."

"And whose idea was it to involve the twins?" MacVitie couldn't resist adding, though in a low tone that may or may not have been heard.

"Of course we asked," Alonzo waved a paw impatiently, turning back to Coricopat, "and I'm willing to take your opinion into account if you'll explain it properly. Just why is it 'never going to work'?"

"For one thing…there are too many holes," Coricopat told them. "What, for example, would you do—even supposing you _could_ infiltrate Growltiger's gang—what then? What could you do to _stop_ his scheme?"

"Dismantle his gang from the inside somehow," Alonzo answered rather vaguely. "Try to make allies…turn his own folk against him…find out his weaknesses… Well, rat's dung, Cori, it'd be impossible to know exactly _what _would work until I—ah, whoever—was actually _in_ the gang," he finished lamely.

MacVitie's ears flattened in embarrassment. He'd known their plan wasn't perfect; but now, actually trying to explain it to another feline, it sounded downright useless.

Coricopat regarded the three toms gravely. "That's the other main problem," he informed them. "You're not all in complete agreement. Each of you thinks _he_ should be the one to infiltrate the gang. You've…all got different reasons for wanting to do this." He held up a paw to stay their objections. "I don't doubt you all have the same _main _goal, to protect the Tribe. But there are…other reasons surrounding that, different for each of you. Some of which you may not even be aware of yourselves, but which could be disastrous in the right context."

"That's clear as mud, then," MacVitie said irritably.

"It's not my intention to confuse you," Coricopat told him. "But it's not _my_ place to bring your deeper thoughts and reasons out into the open; the three of you have to be frank with one another and in complete accord and understanding, if you're to attempt this." He sighed. "I'm not suggesting you have to share _everything _you're thinking and feeling about every single scenario…that's impossible. But if any of you has any outlying motives that you're aware of, you ought to bring those out into the open and consider whether you can still go forward with this plan. And, that's _if_ you can modify it into something that might…actually work."

Alonzo frowned. "You know, Cori, I do believe that's the first open insult I've ever heard you make."

MacVitie rolled his eyes in the harlequin's direction. _Someone can't take criticism… What was he saying about _not _making things personal…? _

"Alonzo," Munkustrap began, having to bring his friend back onto task for the second time in this conversation.

"I get it," the black-and-white interrupted, "the plan reeks and we're conflicted, but the situation's salvageable. The problem," he went on, turning back to Coricopat, "is that we haven't much time. And the situation does not allow for a _perfect_ plan, however much time we have." He sighed. "But as far as being frank with one another… I'll go ahead and start the sharing. I want to find my parents." He said it in the tone of a human who had merely said he wanted to find his missing shoe. "That being said," he added quickly, "though I may _want _that, I'm _choosing _to attend to the plan first and foremost. Is that legitimate?"

"Of course you always have a choice," Coricopat said to all of them. "And…I'm not suggesting any of you is _ruled_ by his emotions." He cast a sidelong glance at Alonzo. "But things like what you've just shared need to be taken into account—acknowledged, not denied. You can't always _know_ how you'll ultimately behave in a given situation until you're in it."

"But perhaps," Munkustrap spoke up, "we won't have to even come to that." Alonzo and MacVitie both shot him a 'we've been over this already' glance, but Munkus continued nonetheless, clearly hoping for a different answer from Coricopat. "Cori, you may have seen that we…before any…infiltration attempts, we planned to see what can be accomplished just by _speaking_ with Growltiger. When MacVitie and I saw him last night, he hinted that he had information for us and essentially left us with an open invitation to meet with him…" He gave a nervous glance around. "He may be watching right now…"

"Not that I'm aware," Coricopat assured him. He glanced up in Tantomile's direction. "It would be a sorry situation indeed for both Tantomile and myself to miss the aura of such a formidable feline."

"The general consensus on the 'talking,'" MacVitie put in, "was that it might get us information, but not…well, not much else. No solution." He looked at Coricopat as if for confirmation or denial.

"Information can be quite a powerful thing," Coricopat said thoughtfully. "It certainly wouldn't be of _no _use at all; the trouble, though, with…well, holding parley with the tiger, if you'd call it that…is that he already has—or claims to have—information interesting to you. That means that, as of now, _he _has a hold over _you_, and not the other way round. And you can be certain he intends to fool or manipulate you in some way with this information."

"Which is why we hoped _you_ could be present," Alonzo spoke up. "At the meeting, I mean, ah…well, one of us would speak to him while the others would stay out of sight to avoid suspicion and listen in on what he has to say. Even if the rest of the plan is shot, would you be willing to do this and at least see what comes of it? I don't suppose we can make the situation _worse,_ at any rate, by just talking with him. True or false, Cori?"

"You're…most likely correct," Coricopat agreed reluctantly. He looked decidedly uncomfortable, and MacVitie supposed it was rather an unusual and difficult thing for the tom, expressing opinions without first consulting his twin. It wasn't as if they _never _had their own separate thoughts and ideas, but so much of Coricopat and Tantomile's life and speech was determined _together, _once they conferred and got on the same footing. That was how it appeared, at least.

"He _is _correct," interrupted a queen's voice. The three toms turned to see Tantomile joining them at last. MacVitie bit his lip to avoid saying something irritable or rude. He glanced up at Tugger to see if he might be watching or listening in, but his back was turned. Turning his attention back onto the conversation at paw, Mack half-expected Alonzo to make some sarcastic remark; thankfully, the harlequin opted for maintaining an icy silence instead. Tantomile wore a neutral expression: if she was still distracted by her talk with Tugger, it didn't show. "If there is even the slightest chance of avoiding more danger or a fight by talking with him," Tanto continued, "it should be taken. You're none of you in any state to go spying alone in a gang such as the one The Tiger keeps. But you'll do as you must, no matter what anyone says, I see that." She exchanged a long glance with Coricopat before resuming, "This conversation—consultation—truce—parley, whichever we're calling it… Please explain the particulars of how you mean it to go. That is, when, where, and who will be the spokescat." She sighed. "Please do so with as little arguing as possible, if you can."

"Does this mean you're willing to take part?" Munkustrap asked.

"I should hope so," the queen answered decidedly. Again she looked towards Coricopat. "This is our family, too, is it not? We'll not let anything happen to them if there's the least thing we can do."


	7. Chapter 7

_Midsummer's Night_

_This isn't happening, _thought the ginger tom for at least the fifth time within the hour. Having been so busy thinking, first, of patrolling and keeping everyone safe in general—then, later, completely preoccupied with the _real_ crisis that had arisen—MacVitie had not stopped to think on what the Ball itself would really be like, or what _he _would do for the time he actually had to be in attendance at said Ball. He'd known vaguely that cats were preparing songs to perform—and that Tugger was obsessing over his, whatever it was—but he'd paid not the least attention to specifics apart from Plato and Admetus' planned stunt that they hoped to perform alongside Tugger. As such, much of the evening came as a surprise to him. On the whole, it had been…not his favourite thing on earth, but not the embarrassing nightmare he'd imagined. One great relief had been Deuteronomy's decision to remain in the Junkyard the entire time. He'd explained to them previously that it was something of a tradition for the Leader to make his rounds of the town, inviting anycat he saw to join the Ball. He'd decided to forego that this year, however, and merely instructed his sons and the other protectors to keep an eye out during their patrols. So, that was one less thing to worry about.

He _had _had to endure being dressed up as a mouse, and then some sort of beetle, for Jennyanydots' song. She'd hissed into his ear something about "following the others' lead, since you missed every rehearsal." That rehearsals had occurred at all was news to MacVitie (his own fault, no doubt), but he went along with it—nor did he feel _too _badly about his poor performance, as nearly everyone else participating did just as poorly (some of them, he suspected, intentionally). Jellylorum, Bombalurina, and Demeter had been the best bit of the song, and theirs the only flawless performance: a trio piece on the choruses which must have taken them weeks to perfect. More than once, MacVitie found himself pausing, costume piece forgotten and hanging limply from his paws, as he became lost in the music he was hearing—then having to rush to keep up with the others.

And then…there had been Tugger.

MacVitie still stood, dumbstruck and gaping, when the song ended and Munkustrap joined him. Skimble had taken it upon himself to assign each 'defense cat' a patrolling shift for the evening, and the brothers and Alonzo, after conferring, had decided to go along with this plan as far as they could in order to avoid suspicion. Each would keep an eye out for Growltiger on his shift, and report to the others. Once sighted, the three toms would find a way to discreetly leave the Ball and meet with him. If Growltiger had not been sighted by the end of the Midnight Dance, they would leave anyway and go searching for him. Coricopat and Tantomile would know when they were needed (nothing unusual with them) and appear accordingly. MacVitie hated the uncertainty of this plan—but what else could they do? Growltiger knew the Junkyard well, and the fact that _anycat _was supposed to be welcome to the Jellicle Ball.

"Anything?" was MacVitie's first question upon seeing the silver tabby. Upon Munk's shake of the head, Mack went on, "Did…you arrive in time to see any of…_that?_"

"No." Munkustrap couldn't help breaking into an amused smile at his brother's flabbergasted expression. "But I could certainly _hear _quite a bit of it. I take it Tugger's performance was as…interesting as it sounded?"

"Interesting? _Somecats_ certainly thought so. They positively _ate it up! _As for me, well…let's just say… I regret that I can't un-see that. That's in my brain now." The ginger tom shuddered, though admittedly he was slightly exaggerating. Whatever else it had been, however embarrassing Tugger's ridiculous display had been, the song itself _had _been rather fun and catchy. Even the cats who weren't specially interested in Tugger—or The Rum Tum Tugger, as his song had described him—for his own sake, had difficulty not dancing along to the upbeat tune. "He won't say _where_ he found the song. I _doubt _he made the entire thing up himself. But I recall him pulling an old…I think you'd call it a juke?—out of a junkpile. He must have got it working somehow, and got ideas from what he heard."

Before either brother could say more, Alonzo walked over and joined them. "No sightings yet, I take it?" Munkustrap and MacVitie shook their heads. "Well then. About time for your shift, Mack? I'll join you."

"You don't want to stay for more of the dancing?" Munkustrap asked in surprise. It would soon be time for the Midnight Dance—a prime chance, so they were all told, for anycat to show off special skills and talents. Munk would have thought Alonzo would jump at such an opportunity to impress the others. But the black-and-white wore a decidedly unsatisfied expression.

"No," said Alonzo shortly. "This is more important. I was thinking that none of us should be caught alone with the Tiger. It's just as well you _didn't_ run into him, Munk. Besides," he added, almost in a growl, "who's to dance with? Everyone's taken."

"You know," MacVitie ventured, rather perceptively, "I'm sure Bomba would dance with you if you _asked_ her, even though she came with—" Alonzo glared daggers in his direction, and Mack wisely trailed off. "Ah…well," he resumed, "I expect if we're going, we'd better get on." He glanced at his brother. "We'll…keep you posted. But do try to enjoy yourself."

"Yes," Munk agreed, shifting his paws nervously, "I was just thinking I would ask Demeter for a dance…"

"Of course," Mack nodded. "Let's go," he said quickly to Alonzo, who had stood by tapping his tail impatiently. The two toms hurried away before the conversation could grow any more uncomfortable.

Aside from a few insignificant remarks, Alonzo and MacVitie kept mainly silent as they made the rounds. The silence kept adrift in a place somewhere between "awkward" and "tense." The two had not much to say to one another, partly because they had never really spoken much alone together until recently: this made for an awkward situation from a social standpoint, but the _reason _for their speaking more lately was far more important than any mere social discomfort. Even still, Mack _did _wish he was better at thinking up small talk…if for no other reason than to lighten the situation a little…

"Really something, your brother, isn't he?" Alonzo said abruptly, breaking the silence.

MacVitie glanced at the harlequin, startled by the strange question. "What—you mean Munkustrap?"

Alonzo rolled his eyes. "Only if it was Munkustrap we saw strutting about in a shiny belt accompanied by obnoxious loud sounds just now. Really, who has the audacity to call that rubbish 'music'?"

Was this Alonzo's way of making idle chatter to help ease them both—or was he really on about something? MacVitie could think of no response apart from, "Oh. Him."

"Yeah, him." Alonzo chuckled, but there was little real humour in the sound. "Bit of a fix, this evening, wasn't it? The two best-loved, best-looking cats in the Junkyard couldn't even manage to snag the dates _they_ wanted, so they took everyone _else's_ dates instead. Couldn't get anyone to go with me, not that it matters..."

"Are you…okay?" MacVitie glanced sideways at the other tom. What was going on with him? Why did _he, _MacVitie, have to be the one hearing this, he was no good at understanding other cats, this was _Munk's_ area of expertise… "What happened to…you know, saving personal issues until Growltiger is dealt with?"

"I'm just… Trying to take Cori at his word… Clear the air of any possible… Share any… Look, Mack, I don't blame you for the whole—uh—situation… What I mean to say is, I know you got caught in the crossfire between Bomba and Tugger and can't help how things have turned out," the harlequin babbled confusedly.

"Okay…?" MacVitie was still utterly lost.

"I'm not explaining well at all." Alonzo sighed. "Look, bottom-line, I don't want a beef with anyone in the Tribe in case I don't—I mean, in case I'm…gone for a long time."

"You mean—" So _that _was it? That was the reason for the dramatics? Alonzo thought he might die carrying out his 'infiltration plan' and never see any of the Jellicles again? "Alonzo," MacVitie said sharply, afraid the harlequin had lost his head before their plan even commenced, "one thing at a time. You know it may not even come to that, and even if it does, we shouldn't assume…"

"Is that you talking, or Munkustrap?" Alonzo interrupted. "Tell me honestly, MacVitie. I know you see Munk as the greatest, most noble cat in the world, and no doubt he is; but that doesn't mean he's always correct, and you must admit he can be a trifle naïve. In a good way, usually. But. In this case, I think we both know—and _he_ secretly knows—that this can only go one way."

MacVitie opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. What was the use of going through the same debate again? He felt Alonzo was right, yet… "So nothing Coricopat said makes any difference to you?"

"He didn't say we were wrong about one of us inevitably having to accomplish this from the inside; he only said we'd better be bloody well sure we navigated this plan in such a way that it would _work." _

"And apparently the other night it wasn't in a state to 'work.' What's changed, then?"

"Oh…I dunno. Nothing, I reckon." But Alonzo's jaw had a determined set to it that worried MacVitie—as if the harlequin had his own plan in mind, and nothing nor no one could dissuade him from it, not even the psychic twins. _Better hope talking does the trick… _Mack felt he should say something more, _keep_ Alonzo talking, figure out what was going on with him…but he hadn't the foggiest _how_.

"'Lonz…" he began, but the other tom suddenly stopped and held up a paw.

"Shh," Alonzo hissed. "Listen." They were just passing by the pile of tubs behind which MacVitie and Munkustrap had hid before. Coming from the other side, they could hear hushed voices. The two crept closer. "Sounds like two felines, a tom and a queen," whispered the black-and-white. "I'm gonna look…" He peered round the pile, and pulled his head back around almost immediately. "Go find Munkustrap."

"Huh?" MacVitie frowned. "What happened to 'not being caught alone with him'—that _is… _him, isn't it?" He didn't want to draw Growltiger's attention by saying his name, not until they figured out who was with him. And he certainly was not keen on leaving Alonzo, who was behaving so oddly it was hard to predict what he'd do.

"Don't argue," Alonzo whispered fiercely. "I won't be alone long: the twins'll be along soon, no doubt. I won't show myself till then."

"Better plan: I stay here, _you_ go and get Munk." Mack couldn't shake the feeling that something was 'off' here. No way in Heaviside was he leaving…

"Do as he says," came Coricopat's voice, as if on cue. MacVitie spun around to face him and Tantomile, who said nothing but gave MacVitie the distinct impression she was making the 'clear out of here' motion with her head.

_"What _are you all on about?" he demanded, though somehow managing to keep his voice down. "There are four of us and one of him. We can wait until he's done conferring with whoever's with him, have our _own_ little talk with him, and report everything to Munk later. Supposedly all we're going to do is _talk_. If anything else happens, we've got numbers on our side. We don't require Munk's help at this exact moment; I'm not some kit who will only be underpaw and needs to be got rid of; in fact _I'm_ the most likely to be able to get answers out of the Tiger. So I repeat: _What is going on?"_ He and the older cats stood paw to paw glaring at one another for a few moments.

"He's not going to leave," Tantomile murmured finally. "Very well, then, MacVitie, stay and see this through with the rest of us." Cori grimaced, but said nothing more.

"I was giving you an out, _idiot,"_ Alonzo told him through clenched teeth. "Well done. Whatever happens, mind you don't compromise the situation."

_"Me _compromise the situation?" Mack was just shy of punching Alonzo in the face and screaming, _Fight me, Patches! _right then and there—stopped only by the fear of giving away their position.

"MacVitie," Tantomile interrupted. Her tone caught Mack's attention: the twins were nearly always calm and cool—he'd never heard them shout—but this was different; she sounded almost…gentle? Soothing? As if she were trying to soften some blow. This made no sense. He waited for her to continue, hoping she would explain, not fog the issue further with riddles. "Just have a look for yourself; all will be clear."

MacVitie crept round the end of the tub-pile, doing his best to look around to the other side without showing himself. He thought he heard Alonzo whisper, "Are you _serious?" _What on earth was the—

And then he saw what had the others so on-edge. They were not concerned about Growltiger—at least, their concern over the Tiger was dwarfed in comparison to this new development: the other feline currently speaking with him.

"Mum."

The next moment MacVitie found himself on the other side of the pile, standing between Bella and Growltiger, without being quite certain how he'd got there. "Back off," he snarled, facing the burly tom. "Stay away from her!"

"So, you've decided to come and continue our bit o' chat," Growltiger grinned, looking completely unconcerned despite Mack's aggressive stance. "I'm that glad. You made the right choice, lad. Where's that brother o' yourn?"

"That's as may be," replied MacVitie, not quite snarling this time but still on his guard. He did not answer Growltiger's question. Coming down a bit from his initial shock, Mack had a moment to reflect on how stupidly impulsive his action had been. The others were probably furious; but there was nothing for it now. They'd find a way to adapt and join him, or he'd see to this on his own. "I may give you the opportunity to explain yourself. But leave _her _out of it." He turned round to Bella. "Are you all right? Better clear out; I'll see to _him…" _

"I…" his mother began, then trailed off, still shocked at seeing MacVitie here.

"What _is _the matter, lad?" Growltiger chuckled. "D'you forget, your mum and me knows each other quite well. We're ole pals, all of us, her and me and Ol' Big D. No need to act as if I'd harm her." He looked over at Bella. "I s'pose it _is _a bit odd for ye to find out the little lad an' I've spoken before now. I was about to tell you when he burst in of a sudden, see."

"MacVitie," Bella gasped, finding her voice at last, "you've…met before? I mean, since...?"

"Yes." MacVitie folded his arms, beginning to feel frustration with his mother now that his concern for her immediate safety was more or less put to rest. "Have _you?" _He felt a sense of impending doom; of what sort he was uncertain; and he was painfully aware that Coricopat, Tantomile, and Alonzo must still be on the other side, listening to every word. He did not know which he preferred: for them to stay hidden or to show themselves now.

"I…no," Bella stammered. "That is…not for a long time…until this evening. Dear love," she continued, tone becoming forcedly cheerful all of a sudden, as if Mack were a kitten and she was suggesting he go play with his friends and leave the adults to their talk, "why don't you just nip along back to the Ball now? I know you'd not want to miss any more of your first Ball…I'll join you as soon as Mister Growltiger and I have finished our meeting."

"Meeting?" MacVitie stared at her in disbelief. "Mum, I _know. _I know this isn't just some ordinary 'meeting.' He's banished, not even meant to _be _here—"

"And yet here _you _are," countered the queen, "apparently looking to meet with him yourself. Care to explain _that? _I'm sure your Papa will not be pleased."

"Mum, can you just tell me what's…"

"Now, now," Growltiger cut in smoothly, as if he were the self-appointed Arbiter. "Suppose we simply talk this out like reasonable creatures. It's true, I've business with each of you—perhaps we can see to it all at once, awfully convenient since we're all here together?"

"I don't want you saying _anything _to my son," Bella told Growltiger, speaking in a more assertive tone than Mack had ever heard her use. "Anything you or he may _think_ you've agreed to speak on, you can leave to me. MacVitie…" She shot him a meaningful look. "…Is leaving now."

"No, I'm not. I'm not leaving _you_ alone with him," MacVitie said firmly, adding that last so Bella couldn't accuse him of simply being mutinous for the sake of it.

"The lad has a right to hear what I have to say, if he wishes it," Growltiger shrugged. "Ain't exactly a kit anymore, is he, Bells?"

"No." Bella's expression changed. She looked…_desperate?_ "I'm begging of you. I don't want anyone to know—least of all him. Please."

Growltiger stroked some bits of scraggly fur on his chin, seeming to consider this. MacVitie tried to interject, but his mother shot him such a half-crazed look that he stopped. _What is happening here? _Where _are the others? Then again…what could they do in any case? What can _I _do? _

"Well," Growltiger resumed at last, "may I take it that you'll go along with the plan, then, as we discussed?"

Bella grimaced as if in pain. She looked at her son again, then turned back to the Tiger and nodded. "Yes."

"Excellent!" Growltiger exclaimed, clapping his paws together and almost beaming. "I knew I'd bring you round to my way of thinking."

"Just…" Bella turned towards MacVitie again. "Give us a moment, won't you?"

"But of course, m'dear. As long as y'need." Growltiger walked away from them, though MacVitie saw him sit down just near the Junkyard exit.

"Mum," he gasped, certain he'd receive answers now that they were out of earshot, "what is this? What have you agreed to? What hold does he have over you? Whatever it is, I'll stop—"

"No, no," she interrupted, trying to smile but failing miserably. "There's nothing like that. But I'm afraid I can't explain…not now. Soon, I promise, I will. But for now, I need you to simply trust me. And there is something _very _important I need you to do. Are you listening, lovey?" She never quite figured out how to speak to her youngest without kitten-talking him.

"What is it?" MacVitie asked, refusing to promise anything until he knew.

"I need to…leave for a while. But I'll be back," she added quickly, afraid he'd interrupt. "Soon… Do you remember how much danger your father said the humans were in?"

"Yes." MacVitie frowned. "Because of _that tom _you just made…some sort of bargain with. Mum, I'm no idiot…"

"Please, I know it all looks dreadful, but believe me, I'm only trying to help. I've got to take care of something, that's all. It will help make my humans…all the humans…safer. But you can't let the others know, do you understand?"

"What is anyone _meant _to think, when you simply disappear…?"

"Tell them I've gone to stay for a long visit with my humans. I may not always be at their house because sometimes they travel… But believe me, I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Mum! How can you say that? How can you _possibly _be safe with—"

"What do _you_ know of this?" Bella cut him off sharply. "Nothing! And it will _stay _that way if I've anything to say about it. Listen to me, MacVitie. I shall be perfectly safe. Nothing will happen to me, you, or the rest of the Tribe, if you promise me you'll say _nothing _to _anyone _of seeing Growltiger here—mind that. And stick to it that I've gone on an ordinary journey. This, and _only _this, will keep everyone safe. Promise me."

MacVitie gave her a long look—this queen who'd always cared for him and his brothers as best she knew how, whom they loved, and he knew she returned their love, though she'd odd ways of showing it at times— "I promise," he answered finally. What more could he say? He'd no intention of _keeping _any such promise… Doubtless the others were forming a plan as they listened in, but he knew already what he'd have to do—regardless of what they would say.

"There's my good Mackey," Bella said, managing a smile this time and patting the ginger tom lightly on the cheek. "Mind you behave yourself while I'm gone. I'll be back before you can grow an inch taller."

Without another word, she left MacVitie's side and joined Growltiger at the exit. She turned about to give her son one last wave before disappearing into the starlit summer night.


	8. Chapter 8

_Autumn_

"Oi, Napoleon! You're wanted, babbykit!"

The ginger tom sat up with a jolt, banging his head on the den's ceiling (which he could never remember was so low), and lay back down again with a low moan. One never woke up gently here: he'd not realized how spoilt he was in the Junkyard.

He made no further move to get up. Probably he'd let them call ten or twelve more times before finally answering the summons. What did it matter? He may get shouted at, but no more, if the last several weeks were any indication. Thus far, everyone here was all bark and no bite where he was concerned. Should that not prove the case today…well, a fight might be a refreshing change of scene. He'd not been in a fight since the first day he'd come here…

To his surprise (and rather to his delight), no further calls came. In no hurry to rise, he let himself relax and dozed for several minutes. He was awakened the second time by somecat nudging him in the side with a footpaw. Opening his eyes, he peered out at the familiar (and very put-out) countenance of Alonzo.

"Just lie abed all day, won't you," growled the harlequin. "Ignore a dangerous tom when he summons you. Are you off your head? Have you forgot where we are, Mack? You're lucky it's _me _who wanted to talk to you, and one of the henches just decided it'd be a good joke to make an announcement."

MacVitie—though no-one actually called him that here—sat up, carefully this time. "What's _he_ going to do, or anyone? We're more or less untouchable here, in case you hadn't noticed. I think I can take a few liberties without much untoward happening."

"Is _that _your strategy?" Alonzo raised an eyebrow. "Exaggerate your dislike so much that he believes it's actually false and you wouldn't _possibly _conspire against him? That makes such _sense." _

"There's nothing for it: he knows I hate him; he also knows I've no choice but to do as he says; he also, for some odd reason, rather seems to like me. Nothing I can do but try to make this all work to my advantage. And…exactly why are we discussing this _here? _Never mind how much we keep our voices down, there could be ears anywhere…"

"That wasn't actually what I came to discuss." Alonzo blew out a long sigh, trying to rein in his impatience. MacVitie waited, trying not to stare at the relatively-new scar above Alonzo's left eye—the one he himself had put there. "There's been…a development. Two developments. First, I've…got to leave."

"You—_what?" _Mack stared at the other tom in disbelief. "But how…even…never mind everything else, how are you being _allowed _to leave?"

"Surprisingly easily—frighteningly so, even. Mack, you…had the right idea from the beginning. _You've _got the best chance of finding a solution here. The Tiger put it nicely enough. 'Of course you must go,' he said, but no doubt he'll have me followed, so anything you can do to help out with that…"

"But just what _is _your situation?" MacVitie bit his lip to resist going on, _What could _possibly _induce you to leave me all alone here? _After all his brave talk at the Junkyard, which seemed now like lifetimes ago, Mack couldn't very well let himself sound like a whining kitten now that it came down to it.

At the question, Alonzo looked decidedly uncomfortable. But he forced himself to go on, "Back home. I've…got a…kit."

Mack stared at the other tom for several seconds, uncomprehending. It wasn't until Alonzo sank down onto the floor, looking ready to vomit, that it actually registered what he'd said. And then Mack was certain he must have misheard. "You…_what?" _he repeated, jumping up to his footpaws even as Alonzo was forced to sit. "Since—when—how'd you find out—you—ah…" he babbled unintelligibly, then tried again. "You…uh, never mentioned you had a mate," he finished awkwardly and lamely. What else could one say? 'Doozy of a time to start a family'?

"Sort of been busy with other matters, haven't we?" Alonzo snapped. Then shook his head, immediately apologizing. "Sorry. Uncalled for. I…don't have a mate. I mean," he reddened, "not really, not in the proper sense, it was all a mistake…"

"Please," Mack's face reddened to match the rest of his coat, "you…don't have to explain if you don't want." _If this conversation proceeds any further, one or both of us will be ill. _He could absolutely not believe that such a conversation was happening here and now. He'd thought he'd welcome _any_ distraction from the present difficulties, but _this… _

He glanced over at Alonzo and caught the patched tom watching him, anxiously, as if gauging his reaction. "You know I'd never do this unless I had no choice…You…okay?"

"Yeah." MacVitie frowned. "Just having trouble understanding…"

"Uh…what, exactly?"

"Oh, I dunno. What was in your _head, _for one. Did you get together with someone _before_ or _after_ you took it upon yourself to eavesdrop and take over our plans? 'Oh, I'm about to go out as a spy in a very dangerous place, I may never come back, better get with some queen while I can'? Never even considering..." Before Mack had even finished speaking, Alonzo had him pinned to the floor.

"Shuttup," the black-and-white snarled. "Shut. Up. She's not 'some queen.' Don't mock at things you know nothing about. Unless you'd like to challenge me again, of your own accord this time—and _this_ time I won't let you win."

"That's wise," Mack chuckled, feeling surprisingly little alarm. Not so much because he knew Alonzo would not seriously injure him, but more because this was rather a welcome change to the relative dullness of the past several weeks, and a relief to taut nerves. "Wouldn't want to mark up your handsome face any more than I already have."

Alonzo rolled off him, pounding the floor with his fist instead of the ginger tom's head as he'd have liked to. "You are _impossible!" _

"Me? _I'm_ not the one abandoning the plan after promising to stick it out to the end!" Mack held up a paw to stay Alonzo's objections. "I won't blame you, if I just know _why _it's so bloody important! No offense—kits _are_ important, but it isn't as if this particular kit is abandoned in the streets and starving and—or _is _he…she…_are_ they...? I revise my earlier statement: you don't have to explain _yourself, _but you do have to explain the situation. Keep it as impersonal as you like, only let me know why _your_ particular presence is required so much that you're willing to risk both our necks leaving here." He paused before adding, "Because it _is_ risking our necks, you know. No matter how peacefully it appears he's allowing you to go…there must be a hitch somewhere."

"D'you think I don't _know _that?" No longer shouting, Alonzo rubbed a paw across his forehead wearily. "All right. It has to do with the _other _'development' I mentioned… But never mind, that can wait a moment. Everyone will soon know, so I might as well say it: the mother of my kit is Bombalurina."

MacVitie's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. Of course Alonzo had never kept his long-held feelings for Bomba a secret. At least, if he'd tried, he'd done a poor job of it. But he'd always seemed resigned that Bombalurina would never return his feelings...was out of his league, even. Had he been wrong, then? Had _Mack _been wrong about Bomba and Tugger? But Alonzo had said 'the mother of my kit,' not 'my mate.'

"Well…" MacVitie tried to think of something positive to say. "I guess it'll be a job getting used to kits. But she's not alone, she should have plenty of help, between her mum and Jelly and…" He'd been about to say 'my mum,' but realized that wouldn't exactly fit here.

"That's not it at all," Alonzo cut him off. "It's much more complicated than that."

"Isn't it just always."

"Let me finish," the harlequin snapped, "or we'll never get anywhere."

"Right. Sorry. Won't happen again."

"There's this humans' pub in town. Most evenings you can find tasty scraps in their bins. Besides which some streetcats have set up their own…well, something of a miniature pub, around the back where the humans seem either not to notice or not to care. Called the _Bull and Bush. _I happened upon Bomba there one evening…we argued… No, this is going to take too long. The gist of it is, several of Growltiger's henchcats are regulars at that same pub. Her face is known to them, and that we…know each other."

"What else is new? There aren't many back home whom the Tiger _doesn't _know of and couldn't use against us any time he chose…"

"Such as now."

"I—what?"

"They're here, Mack."

"They? They who? Exactly _what _are you trying to tell me?" Mack growled. "Quit talking in riddles and just spit it out already! Who are you meant to _be_, anyway—Coricopat?"

"Bombalurina and…Demeter."

_"What?" _Now it was MacVitie's turn to pin Alonzo to the floor—truth be told, the harlequin put up little to no struggle. _"Where is your head, _you bloody patched-butt idiot? What'd you _do_—let them see you when you were on one of your spying assignments? How in bloody Heaviside could you _let this happen?" _Alonzo gave no response but an odd-sounding gurgle, which clued MacVitie in to the fact that his arm was pressing down on the patched tom's throat. Reluctantly, the ginger tom moved his arm—'Reluctantly,' because, much as he _didn't _want to actually kill his friend, at the moment he _would_ really have liked to kill this imbecile who'd put more of their friends in danger. "Well?" Mack demanded, folding his arms so as to resist the temptation to resume choking the harlequin.

"They followed me," Alonzo answered, with a slight cough. "You know he's been sending me there, out of pure spite, no doubt. I have to tell him _something, _it isn't as if he can't go there himself and verify if what I report is real. At first I was careful not to be spotted, but he grew dissatisfied with my reports. 'You're _one _of them,' he said. 'What've I got you for if you don't actually speak to anyone?' So… Then I intended to show myself only to those I could persuade not to mention seeing me to anyone, or if they did, to somehow make a plausible story that I'd found a human family and simply didn't want to leave them for the foreseeable future… All that vanished when guess-which-kit sneaked up and surprised me behind the old oven."

"Quaxo." Mack shook his head. "You're going to pin all this on a kit?"

"A kit with powers," Alonzo corrected. "And, no, I'm merely describing what happened." He shook his head. "D'you know, Bomba had him more or less trying to track us down without even knowing he was doing anything of the kind? Others've started to notice he 'knows' or 'has feelings' about things, so she'd ask seemingly-innocent questions just to see what he'd say…"

_"Bomba's_ been trying to find us?"

"Well, we simply disappeared one night, didn't we? Munk…appears anxious, but does not seem to be actively searching, which can only mean he's figured out where we are and is giving us time to accomplish something before he interferes—or, more likely, Cori and Tanto have had to sit on him to stop him doing anything for the time being. Apparently they've said _something _to your father, because he's not searching either."

MacVitie couldn't help feeling discouraged at this news, even though he knew he should be relieved. "And so the only one actively looking for us has been _Bomba?" _

"That'll be my fault," Alonzo admitted. "Of course she thinks I simply fled the scene to avoid the responsibilities of parenthood… But I didn't _know_ at the time, I promise I didn't."

"And so…Quaxo found you and told the others?"

"Yes. I tried to get away without them, tried to make them understand the danger without really explaining…You can guess how well _that_ went. Quaxo seemed to pick up on something and actually made the responsible decision to leave the conversation then and there. I managed to get a promise from Bombalurina and Demeter that they wouldn't tell anyone I'd been there. I came back here as soon as possible…and caught them trying to sneak in the entrance behind me. Bomba then informed me that they'd only promised to keep my secret—not to stay put."

"So where are they now?"

"With you-know-who. I'm meant to explain the situation to you, and then…we're meant to join them."

"How can you say all this so bloody _calmly?" _Now that the initial task of telling MacVitie had been accomplished, the black-and-white _did _seem a right sight calmer than the shouting state he'd been in a moment ago—almost imperturbable, even.

_"One _of us has got to keep his head," Alonzo informed the ginger tom. "The situation's arisen, I know bloody well it's completely my fault, but there's nothing for it now but to make the most of it. Mack, I _need_ to know you can handle this; Bomba and Demeter will have no one to turn to here but you."

"After all you've told me, how can you still be _leaving?" _

"Mack. When the Tiger 'gave me permission,' what he meant was 'Clear out and never return on pain of death.'"

"How can you possibly know that?"

"You'll see for yourself. But isn't it obvious in any case? He wants _me_ gone, but wants to keep the queens here. As 'guests.'"

"So hostages," MacVitie groaned, kicking himself for not realizing sooner.

"Of course. Think on it, Mack. He agreed to let your mum go in exchange for our staying. So he clearly values us on _some _level. All the same, he has little hold over us beyond that."

"Had," Mack corrected dryly.

"Had," the harlequin repeated. "Is…this all clear enough? The others are waiting…"

The weight of everything Alonzo had told him began to hit home at last. _They're actually here… What must they _think?... "Let's go then," the ginger tom sighed. "Probably not much more you can tell me that I won't find out myself soon in any case…"

Alonzo cleared his throat. "So can I get up then?"

"Huh?"

"You're kind of sitting on me."

MacVitie looked down at the other tom, having momentarily forgotten pinning him to the floor. He was also very aware that the black-and-white could easily have shoved him off. The fact that Alonzo _didn't_ shove him off spoke volumes… And then his words really began to sink in, _I need to know you can handle this…they'll have no one to turn to but you. _What must it be like for _him _at this moment—having only just learnt he had a kit, and that the mother of that kit was being taken hostage? And here Mack was, flying off the handle. Guiltily, he stood up, releasing Alonzo. "Right. Sorry."

Alonzo stood as well, shrugging his shoulders. Apart from a slight tremble in his lower lip, the harlequin had his nerves under control and showed no visible signs of worry. "Quite a fix we've got into, eh. Well. Time to face the music…I think that's what the humans say?"

"You'd have to ask my brothers about that one. I've never been around humans long enough to know _what_ they'd say."

* * *

Stone-faced, the ginger tom led the two queens through the warehouse, back towards his den. Growltiger had ordered him to find 'the guests' sleeping quarters, but first a serious discussion needed to be had and rules laid down. If they were rash enough to seek out this place to begin with, he couldn't rule out the possibility of their doing something equally rash while being here—like wandering around and poking their noses where they shouldn't, resulting in their being maimed or killed.

He'd spoken little during the short meeting between himself, Alonzo, Bombalurina, Demeter, and Growltiger. The others seemed to have settled things well enough without _his_ input. The Tiger had merely informed them all, in a general sort of way, that Patch had been called away to deal with 'certain pressing matters,' they had gained 'two lovely guests whose stay here was indefinite,' and that 'of course Napoleon would see to it the guests had all they needed.'

That had been all. Alonzo had gone. Growltiger had dismissed them.

Having reached his den, MacVitie sat down on the floor, leaving the bed for the queens. Having nothing else to do, the two sisters took the silently offered seat. The silence stretched on awkwardly for several minutes.

"It's…good to see you, Vitie," Demeter ventured at last. "We thought…we were afraid that…well, no one was sure…"

"Don't bother with the smalltalk, Deme," Bombalurina cut in. "He's about to throw a great flaming tantrum at us, and nothing we do or say will stop it." She turned a saucy eye towards the ginger tom. "Isn't that right, Mackey? Or should I say…Napoleon?" She snickered. "Is that your new tribe name? Just whose idea was _that?" _

"Bomba," Demeter murmured reprovingly.

"You are unbelievable," Mack whispered—only because the alternative was screaming. "Have you _any _idea what you've done?"

"I've already had The Lecture from Alonzo," Bomba scowled, "and don't intend to hear it again."

"Bomba," Deme began again.

_"No_, Deme!" The scarlet queen pounded the bed with her fist. "'What've _you_ done,' these idiots ask. What've _we _done?_ You_ simply disappear one night and _no one does anything about it. _Just after that patched scoundrel takes advantage of high emotions, a pub, and a late night to get the only thing any tom cares about. Coincidence? I think not. How was _I_ to know he'd go to such lengths to escape responsibility? Even before he knew there'd be a kitten! Like the bloody coward he is!" She'd worked herself into such an agitated state that she'd begun shredding the bits of cloth that made up MacVitie's bed. "You owe me a bloody good explanation for, firstly, how you came to help Patchface run away from his own responsibilities, and secondly, what the deuce made you think _this _was a good place to run away to. Just _look _what you've got us all into!"

MacVitie had looked away in embarrassment when Bomba mentioned her 'rendezvous' with Alonzo. But as she went on, he turned back and gaped at her in astonishment. Alonzo had said, of course, that Bomba would say he was fleeing his responsibilities…but MacVitie had assumed she'd also suspect there was more to it than that. Was Alonzo aware that as far as she was concerned, _this _was the crux of the matter—he and Bomba, nothing else? That according to her, they'd joined a dangerous gang 'just to get away'? Bomba's rant had quite knocked all the fight out of Mack for the moment, and he now spoke with relative calm. "So. You think that all of this was about Alonzo running away from his responsibilities, and that_ I_ was his confidant in all this? Bomba…you've got this completely wrong." He paused. How much to tell them? Perhaps it was best to keep them as ignorant as possible. He himself still knew little, in any case—only that Growltiger _had _a plan, not what that plan was or how to stop it. He also suspected one or two gang members of being secretly against the Tiger, but he was too new here for anyone to begin taking him into their confidence. So, why involve the queens in that uncertainty? Still, he ought to explain _something _of Alonzo's reasons...

"Well? What do you mean?" Bomba snapped, breaking into MacVitie's thoughts and reminding him that he'd been silent for some time. "He's thought up some excuse? _This_ ought to be good."

"Bomba, just give him a chance," said Demeter.

"No matter what he says," Bombalurina turned her glaring eye on her sister, "it does _not_ change what Alonzo did."

"And I'd _never_ defend him in that," Demeter responded firmly. "I'm completely with you there. But _don't _take it out on everyone else."

"He worships the ground you walk on," MacVitie blurted out, on a sudden mad impulse. "He _always_ has. You _know _that. He didn't leave to _escape_, he left to…" He thought of what Alonzo had told him before he'd taken the rash action of coming between Bella and Growltiger. "To give you an out."

"And thus the Relationships Expert speaks at last," Bomba sneered. "He's here to tell us what everyone's feeling because his brother Stripes isn't here to do it for him."

"Just what do you mean, Vitie?" Demeter asked, perplexed.

MacVitie hadn't thought he could ever be in a scarier situation than when he'd joined Growltiger's gang; this right here nearly qualified. Still, how could matters get worse? There was nothing for it but to be brutally honest. What would Bomba do, not speak to him for a week? _That _hardly mattered. "Look," he pressed on, "Bomba. Tugger and you—you're _mad _for each other, right? Have been since we were kits. You've perhaps never quite learnt how to show it in the correct way, maybe you never _will _learn and you'll simply both be miserable for the rest of your lives, but the fact stands. _Everyone _knows it. Unless of course it's all been for show...only you two would know that. Another well-known fact is that _Alonzo _has admired _you_ for just as long. But he's the sense to know it was and would always be from afar. Or _did_ have. Something changed, for a fleeting moment at least, that evening you met at the pub. At least, it seems he _thought _something changed between you. I don't know much about that—nor, frankly, do I _want_ to know any more. Whatever changed, whatever happened...clearly you both soon regretted it. Realising the compromising position he'd placed you in, he concluded the best thing was to make himself scarce so you could forget the moment of madness and move on with your life. Mind, I'm not saying he was _correct _in thinking this way, but his intentions were the best they _could_ be under the circumstances. Kittens had not entered into his calculations at the time. Toms don't _think _about kits all the time…" He did not know for certain that any of this was true, but it was the most _likely _from what he could tell, doing his best to follow Munkustrap's example of paying attention to others' actions and trying to understand what they meant. "That was _partly _why he left," Mack went on, not daring to meet either queen's gaze until he'd done talking. "The other reason…was my fault; he came here to help _me_. It can't have escaped your notice that my mum disappeared just before Alonzo and I did. She tried to make it seem as though she'd only gone to stay with her humans, but her long absence must have started to seem suspicious. Well, that is because she was…here. The Tiger has some sort of hold over her, I still haven't found out what. Alonzo and I came upon them arguing…whatever they were arguing on, it ended with her agreeing to accompany him back to his gang in return for his keeping—something, we don't know what—secret. Alonzo and I followed soon after. One thing led to another, and we somehow eventually managed to get her freedom in exchange for our staying here indefinitely. We've—I've—been chiefly trying to find an opportunity to escape, while following orders and generally keeping out of trouble. And…now you know as much as I do," he concluded. "Though," he added, looking up at last to see the queens' reactions, "perhaps my mum has shared at least _some _of what I've told you?" He hoped she might have even shared _more. _

Both were staring at him in speechless astonishment. All semblance of fight seemed to have fled even Bomba's face.

"Vitie," Demeter began tentatively, "she…" The gold queen glanced to her sister as if for help.

"Your mum hasn't been back since that night," Bomba informed him, though in a much gentler tone than she'd used previously.

"I—what?" MacVitie gawped at the scarlet queen. "No, you must be mistaken, she…"

"Don't you think if she'd been there we'd have noticed?"

This made no sense. "Perhaps she's _really_ staying with her humans now, unless…" A horrifying thought occurred to him. "I'll be back," he said flatly, getting up, "I've a little chat to have with…"

"No, Vitie!" Demeter seized his paw to stop him going, eyes widened in alarm. "Please don't cross him, not for this, I don't think he's keeping her _here, _Bombalurina _has _seen your mum, just not…" She glanced guiltily at Bomba, as if afraid she'd said too much.

"Where?" MacVitie demanded. "Was she all right? What did she say?"

"If you must know," the red queen sighed, "it was…back at the _Bull and Bush_." She held up a paw to stay Mack's outburst. "Don't start. I don't want to hear it. I was trying to gather information as to your and Alonzo's whereabouts, thank you very much. Believe it or not, I'm quite _good_ at gathering information in general. Cats of all sorts who've been everywhere—mostly scruffy-looking, smelly toms, for your information—sit about the place drinking some sort of discolored water they lift from the humans' stores. Dunno what it _is_ exactly, my humans don't keep it around the house. I've tried it once or twice—awful flavor, but it does seem to calm the nerves if taken in small quantities. In _large _quantities, on the other paw…In any case, these toms sit about consuming glass after glass, and let's just say it gets them talking. I've not found out much useful thus far—or _hadn't, _until this particular evening." _Just how often had Bomba been there…? _ "That's when, amidst all the stench and scraggly fur, I spotted Bella off in a corner on her own, a glass and bottle in front of her." She hesitated, as if considering how much to tell him. MacVitie recognized the look, mainly because he'd seen it so often on his brother's face.

"Don't leave out a thing," he said. "I was perfectly frank with _you_ just now." He felt a twinge of guilt at his not-strictly-true statement, but he _had _been as frank as he could safely be at the moment. "Return me the favour. Tell me everything you can recall that passed between you." He glanced at Demeter, who'd seated herself on the floor and was pulling at his paw to make him sit down as well. "And will you _stop that, _please, Deme," he sighed, though he did sit. "I'm not a baby kitten who needs someone to hold my paw."

"No," returned the gold queen, "and you're also not an emotionless brick wall. At least I don't _think _you are." She retained her grip on his paw—tightened it, even, as if he'd try to escape—and he made no further objection.

"Well," Bombalurina continued, looking more uncomfortable than ever, "as I said, the bitter water makes cats talk more than usual, and of course everything they say is a mixture of truth, exaggerated truth, partial truth, and utter nonsense. Mind that." Mack nodded impatiently for her to go on. "When I spotted Bella, of course I made straight for her, sat down across from her, and asked where in Heaviside she'd been all these weeks and what she was doing in a nasty place like this." She paused, as if expecting MacVitie to say _might've asked _you _the same question, _or some such comment. But he resisted, not wanting to put her off from telling everything. "It seemed to take her a moment to recognize me, and to register what I'd even said. When recognition dawned, she burst into tears and started in on a long rant, much of which made no sense—either because she was simply spouting nonsense brought on by the drink, or because I didn't know the context of what she was talking about. But one thing was clear: she'd been mixed up with a gang of thugs, and now you and Alonzo were deep in it as well. Because of her. She…kept repeating, 'I'm the worst mother on earth, I'm the worst mate on earth, I don't deserve him,' over and over. I tried to persuade her, first, to explain what she meant, then, when _that_ was useless, to return with me to the Junkyard. She looked terrified at that and kept sobbing, 'I can't go back, not ever,' getting so loud that others turned and glared at us. Then a few began leering, and I knew it was getting to the dangerous time of evening and it was time to clear out. I couldn't leave Bella _there,_ of course. Though in her hysterical state, it was doubtful any of the toms would want to bother her; still, common decency was to get her out of there. And I thought maybe if I waited a bit, she'd tell me more. I finally got her to leave with me, only after promising that I'd take her to her humans' house, not the Junkyard. I said nothing until we reached her door, figuring I'd give her time to calm down a bit. She made no move to go inside, so we perched on the front step. 'You can't tell him,' she said finally. 'It would kill him.' I had no idea who she was referring to, though I could well guess it was you, one of your brothers, or Deuteronomy." She paused. To Mack's expectant, inquiring look, she shook her head. "I promise, I got nothing more of sense out of her. Finally I opened the kitty door and more or less shoved her inside the house. I told her not to do anything, I'd be back to see her again soon, and then I left." She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "What more could I do?"

MacVitie nodded. "What more could you do?" he repeated dully, trying to quell his disappointment. All this really revealed to him was that something dreadful was eating away at his mother…which, if he were honest, he'd known for some time. But nothing Bomba said gave him a clue as to _what_ that might be. He caught Demeter watching him anxiously, and gave her what he hoped was some sort of a reassuring smile. _What am I _doing _here? Can't find out Growltiger's plans, can't help Mum… I may as well have stayed home and out of the way where I belong. _"And _did_ you?" he asked Bomba, grasping at a last hope. "See her again?"

Before the scarlet queen could respond, she was distracted by something behind the other two felines. MacVitie and Demeter turned about to see what Bomba was looking at: two small fuzzy faces peeking around the doorway of the den. They looked uncertainly at Bomba, but the moment MacVitie spotted them they broke into enormous grins and walked right in. Without so much as a by-your-leave, they seated themselves on either side of Bomba and leaned up against her cozily. The scarlet queen looked annoyed, but not frightened. These were nothing more than a couple of kittens, evidently siblings, tabby-furred—matching patterns, only one had mixed black and gold stripes, the other black and ginger.

"Hiya, Nappy," grinned the black-and-gold one, a little queen. "Wot's kickin'?"

"Look, Teazer," sighed Mack, "if you two can't say Napoleon, I get it. But 'nappy' is _not_ a good alternative. Try my old name, MacVitie. Or Mackey, if that's too hard. Or, you know, just plain old Mack. Nice and short."

"Mack," the queenkit, apparently called Teazer, tried. "Hmm…wotcha think, Jerrie?"

"Mack," repeated the black-and-ginger tomkit…Jerrie. He seemed to think deeply on the subject—for about two seconds. Then he dismissed it. "Not goin' to 'appen. Too boring an' not intimate."

"Intimidating," Mack corrected, whilst Bomba and Demeter struggled to stifle their giggles. "All right, then. How about the others?"

"Wot were the others, now?" Jerrie mused. "Mmm…Mack…a…thing…somefin'… Macavee…Macavity…"

"Ohhh, I _like_ that'un!" his sister cut in excitedly. "Er, wot was it? MacKintosh? MacPhee?"

"Mac-a-VEE-tee," Jerrie corrected.

"All right, all right," MacVitie interrupted, putting a paw to his head. _They can pronounce any stupid human Scotch name except the one I want them to say. _"It doesn't matter. But I'm busy now. Clear off, will you?"

"Vitie," Demeter spoke up reproachfully. Mack shook his head.

"Careful, Deme," he cautioned. "They may _look_ cute, but they'll steal the whiskers right off you if you don't look out."

Ignoring him, Demeter looked up at the kits. "Hello," she said kindly, "my name's Demeter. What are your names?"

The tomkit jumped up and gave a little bow—so solemn-looking as to be almost comical. "'Ello, nice lady, my name is Mungojerrie. This's me sistah…" Not to be outdone, the queenkit hurriedly stood and bowed likewise before her brother completed the introduction. "…Rumpelteazer."

"I'm Bombalurina, in case anyone's interested," said Bomba. "You know, the one you crowded in next to without so much as an introduction?"

Mungojerrie spun back round to face her, looking distraught. "Please fergive our terrible manners, milady!" he exclaimed, actually leaning down and kissing the scarlet queen's paw.

"Lady Mother _did _teach us," Rumpelteazer added apologetically, "but we _do _ferget _sometimes…" _

"All right," Mack cut in once more, "we're all good and introduced. Now did you two actually have something to say, or did you simply come to make nuisances of yourselves?—_And_ steal my food?" he added, staring Jerrie down until the tiger tomkit guiltily returned the mouse he'd been hiding behind his back. The truth was, MacVitie was rather fond of the two irrepressible kits—too fond, in fact. They reminded him constantly of Plato and Admetus. This, to his mind, was a problem. The moment he'd first seen Jerrie and Teazer, he'd at first been shocked that there were any kits here at all—then, upon reflection, decided it made sense. Apart from going out and recruiting, or kitnapping, how was a gang—this one, or any other—to keep up their numbers if there were never any mates and kittens? Besides, being small, and at just the age when youngkits needed plenty of activity, the twins made ideal burglars—perfect for food collection. Once he'd reasoned this out to himself, he immediately determined on one vital self-imposed ultimatum: not to get attached. However cute they were now, they couldn't be raised here and _not_ grow to be just like Growltiger and his ilk. And whatever happened, MacVitie would inevitably have to fight them one day. He would have to make Demeter and Bombalurina understand that. Before too much damage was done.

"I just _remembah'd!" _Rumpelteazer exclaimed. "Leadah wants you t'know…t'know…ah…" She looked to her brother for assistance.

"Ah…lemme see, now, they wos lots of instruct-shins…" Jerrie wrinkled up his nose in concentration. "Fuhstly… Patchy's duties are now yours. Second…"

"I remembah this'un!" Rumpel cut in eagerly. "Find yer lady-guests useful fings ta do, or see to it they stay outta the way, an' the fuhst time they're caught meddlin' wif anyfin' in any way, it's their 'eads. Oh, an' if any'un should 'appen upon 'em lookin' fer a good time, it ain't Leadah's job t' say anyfing about it."

"Fin'ly," Mungo concluded, spreading his paws dramatically, "come'n see Leadah fer further instruct-shins before sunset."

"That wasn't a lot," Mack shrugged, feigning indifference. In truth, their words had him more than a bit worried. "Well," he prompted, hoping to finally be rid of them, "aren't you two meant to be replenishing the food stores, or something…?"

Teazer gasped. "Matter o' fact, we _are! _C'mon, Jerrie, we'd bettah get a move on! Y'know it takes a while an' Lady Mother don't like us out after dahk…"

"Lovely t'meet yew ladies, must dash," Jerrie said, giving a hasty bow. Without further ado, the twins fled the den.


	9. Chapter 9

"What was _that _about, Mack?" Demeter asked the moment the kits had gone. MacVitie shrank back slightly._ She_ only called him that when peeved with him. The gold queen looked as if she couldn't decide whether to whack him or burst into tears or both. "You can't… you _can't _have grown so calloused already just by living here. They're _kittens, _for Heaviside's sake!"

"And I'll do them _so _much good by babying them," the ginger tom countered. "Have you forgot where we _are?" _

Bombalurina rolled her eyes. "Not _this _song-and-dance again. Listen, if you two are quite done with your lovers' tiff…"

"It's nothing of the kind, Bomba," Demeter objected, flushing crimson.

"…Let's move on to the important questions," Bomba went on, as if her sister hadn't spoken. "First: who's this 'Lady Mother' they kept mentioning? I gather she's important?"

"Her name is Griddlebone," MacVitie informed her, just as glad to be saved from the other conversation. "Big, imposing Persian queen. The most important thing you need to know is to keep out of her way."

"That seems to be the general idea round here," Bomba scoffed.

"Is she actually their mother?" Demeter asked.

"As far as I know," MacVitie sighed, "and she makes them call her Lady. But it's so with everyone here. She's Growltiger's mate." He grimaced. "And she must make sure everyone remembers it. Fortunately she shows herself but rarely, preferring to keep to her den and have things fetched to her as if she were a human monarch." He shook his head disdainfully.

"Growltiger isn't their father, though, is he?" Demeter persisted. It was all clear where _her _priorities lay already.

"I expect he is," Mack answered. "What makes you say that?"

"Just seeing him, and then them—Jerrie and Teazer, that is—it didn't seem quite…although they _do _speak very much like him…you have to wonder how the Lady Mother feels about _that…_"

"Dem," Bomba interrupted sharply, thinking along the same lines as MacVitie, "please tell me _what _your questions have to do with the goal at paw? Namely, _staying alive, _in case you'd forgot?"

"Bomba… How can you of all cats not understand? How can you be a mother and still gloss over the fact that two kittens are being raised in a place like this?"

MacVitie cringed, certain that all havoc was about to break loose. But the only visible signs of displeasure Bomba showed were a slight curl of the lip and her paw quivering at her side. Seeing Demeter was close to tears, it was obvious the gold queen spoke out of concern for the kits, and not intending any cruelty towards her sister. "Demeter," the scarlet queen said firmly, "you've _got_ to move on past that. It's not a question of being unmoved by these poor kits' situation, but of _trying to stay alive. _That means putting aside these—for now—irrelevant matters and listening to Mack's advice. (You will tell no one I ever said such a thing, Mack. Ever.) We're no help to the kits or anyone else if we get killed off within three minutes of being here simply because we let our emotions get the better of us and try to mount some sort of rash rescue."

MacVitie nodded in agreement with Bombalurina's speech and picked up her line of thought before Demeter could interject. "Of course we'll help them if we can." _Why on earth did I just say that? _"But," he went on hastily, "you've got to understand that my very first priority is keeping _you_ two safe and getting you home as soon as possible."

"And _you've _got to understand," Demeter countered, "that I am not going _anywhere _without those kits, any more than I'll leave without _you. _We all go or we all stay."

Bombalurina fixed her sister with a scrutinizing glance, before turning to MacVitie with a shake of her head. "Nothing for it, Mackey. You aren't going to change her mind on this now. Whatever plans you've got cooking, you may as well go ahead and make those two obnoxious fur-heads a part of it. Oh, and this is from _me_, if you had any hare-brained idea of getting us out and staying yourself, you can forget that too. No one here is sacrificing him- or herself for the others, so put it out of your mind."

"Demeter…" Mack continued to stare at the gold queen in disbelief. "You've known those kits for five _minutes." _

"It doesn't matter," Demeter said coolly. _"You've _known them for weeks and yet hadn't even considered how to get them out of here? You and Alonzo would have just left them at the first opportunity and not thought twice about it? What've you been _doing _here, twiddling your paws?"

"You don't _understand…" _MacVitie felt a suspicious burning at the back of his eyes, and shoved his paws up to them to prevent any possible tears escaping. That would help no one. "Fine. Have it your own way. We'll work them into the plan." _Right. _What _plan?_ He struggled to swallow back the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.

"Meanwhile," Bomba suggested, buying him time, "we'll still be here quite a while, most likely. So tell us what we should expect and do in day-to-day life." She hastily added, before he could respond, "And don't say 'keep out of the way' again. We've _got _that one, all right."

MacVitie swallowed several times and cleared his throat loudly before trusting himself to speak again. "Well, that _is _the main one," he shrugged.

"So you're saying mean old Uncle Tiger won't expect us to attend to any duties like proper tribe-members?" Bomba smirked.

"Not unless you draw undue attention to yourselves," Mack told them bluntly. "But you remind me of another important point. Don't underestimate him. He may seem funny and easygoing, but believe me when I say that, whatever you remember about him from when we were kits, he's _dangerous. _He'd smile serenely at you while giving another cat orders to rip you apart. He'd make you fight your best friend just on a whim. He'd…" He stopped himself short of going on a rant.

Demeter caught his eye: she was staring at him, wide-eyed, frustration with him for the moment forgotten. "You've _seen _all that since being here?"

MacVitie hesitated and glanced at Bombalurina, asking with his eyes if he should say any more.

"I'm not some helpless kit, and Bomba's not my mum," the gold queen spoke up again. "Say whatever you've got to say."

"Fine. Yes. Of course I've 'seen things' since being here. This isn't a happy-fuzzy family, Demeter, it's…well, I don't know quite _what_, yet. Not just a load of felines who amuse themselves by being brutes, either; they've got some goal they're working towards, I haven't yet found out what it is." He bit his lip, having given away more than he meant. "The Tiger has got to keep control somehow. He's got a variety of methods. For example, if he notices two cats sharing too strong a sense of comradeship, he makes them fight, and not leave off until he says so. Sometimes one ends up dead. Just to prove we'd follow any order. When Alonzo and I got here, well…obviously we were too close for his liking already. So fighting each other was our...initiation, if you will."

"So _that's _how his face got rearranged," Bomba muttered, having noticed in spite of herself.

"Vitie," Demeter gasped, backing away. "Did…one of you nearly…_would _you have…killed…?"

"How can you _ask _me that?" MacVitie demanded.

"Of course your precious Mackey would _never_ do such a thing, Deme," Bombalurina snarled. "Patches, on the other paw…wouldn't put it past _him…" _

"He'd _never..." _MacVitie turned round to try and get ahold of himself. "Listen," he growled at the wall, "Alonzo and I have never been the greatest of friends. There are times I'd like to stove his head in. But I trust him with my life, and I hope he does me. What's more, _Munkustrap _trusts him. Neither of us would consider seriously harming the other, not for a moment, d'you hear? For my part, I'd die myself first, and he's given me reason to believe he feels the same. Why? Because he's a Jellicle. We're of the same Tribe. We're comrades—more than comrades—we're _family. _Just as I consider you two family. Nothing can change that. And don't think for a moment that living here has caused me to forget." He leaned his forehead against the den wall, feeling utterly spent already, though it was barely midday. "Any other questions?" he rasped without turning around. Neither queen responded. "Then I'm declaring ten minutes' quiet. I need to _think_."

He almost immediately regretted his impatience. Of _course _the queens didn't fully grasp what it had been like for him here—what else could he expect? And here all he could do was shout at them, he thought guiltily. He'd often missed one or another of his fellow Jellicles—mainly his own family, whom he couldn't leave off worrying about, but others as well, including Demeter, with whom he'd never really made it up before leaving. Well, now she and her sister were here; he ought to be comforting them with thoughtful words and reassuring them that _they would soon be home again, as he was hatching a plan, and a brilliant one at that_… the sort of things Munkustrap would be doing and saying in his place. Instead, he had told them hardly anything useful or reassuring—only bothered them for news of his mother, frightened them, and more or less complained about his own troubles. No wonder Alonzo had been concerned. Truth was, despite the considerable time he and Alonzo had been here, MacVitie, for his part, had hardly made good use of it, as Demeter had so aptly noted. Unless directly ordered to do something, he'd mainly kept to his den, remaining as disconnected as possible, trying not to go to pieces. The queens' coming had awakened everything he had been trying not to feel or think about for weeks.

He heard a slight rustle behind him. Glancing over his shoulder in spite of himself, Mack saw that Demeter had made her way over to him. After one short, searching glance at his face, she leaned against him comfortingly, in much the same way he had done for Munk one of the last evenings they'd talked together. Mack turned his face away, but let her stay. What a state he must be in, that the friends he was meant to protect had to be the ones comforting _him, _instead of the other way round.

That did it. He _must _start in on much more actively trying than he had up till now. Figuring out what Growltiger's plan was, finding out how he kept so many cats obedient to him (before now, Mack's mind had only been on the Tiger's _personal _hold on himself, namely his mother—what about the rest of the gang?), making a plan of escape for the queens (and now those silly striped thief twins as well), and discreetly speaking to other gang-members to find out whom he might enlist to help in taking down Growltiger… _Stop a bit. _What an idiot he was! When not on duty, where did gang-members go to amuse and enjoy themselves? Hadn't Alonzo mentioned that some of them could be found at the pub which Bomba kept referring to…?

Without thinking, he gave Demeter's paw an affectionate squeeze, feeling more excitement and optimism than he'd felt in what seemed like ages. She gave a slight jump and her eyes sought his with a look of surprised inquiry. "Ten minutes' silence is over," he announced (though he wasn't at all sure ten minutes had actually passed), turning himself and Demeter both round to face Bombalurina. He was unable to help grinning from ear to ear, but his face quickly sobered as he looked at Bomba.

"Look who's had some sort of Grand Epiphany," she scoffed.

"This is important," MacVitie told her. "I need to know all about the pub...what did you call it, _Bull and bush? _Where it is, and any cats you remember seeing there."

The scarlet queen exchanged a knowing glance with her sister. "I was _wondering_ when you'd think to ask me that, Mackey dear."


	10. Chapter 10

"So, the elusive new favourite honours us with his presence at last," guffawed a large Himalayan queen. "Lily LaRose, can't recollect if we've been formally introduced. This here's _my _establishment, so any plans of causin' a fuss here and ye'll feel the toe of my boot afore ye can say Billy Macaw. What's yer poison, babbykit—er, Biscuit—say, what's it we're supposed to call ye, anyhow?"

"Get this kit a glass o' milk," snorted a tabby-furred tom, seated near him.

MacVitie bore their ridicule silently, per his predetermined strategy. Getting into a brawl over his own pride would help no one. As the Himalayan…Lily LaRose, obligingly slid a dish of milk over to him, however, he murmured, "Macavity." Much as he hated to admit it, that name Teazer had spouted at random _did _have rather an intimidating ring to it. More than any of the others, at any rate. And he _needed _to establish a name and reputation for himself among these cats, or he'd get nowhere. If names like 'Biscuit' and 'Babbykit' were to become stuck to him the way 'Patches' and 'Patchy' had got stuck to Alonzo, he was doomed. That thought actually made him chuckle. _Must be nerves. _

"Eh, wot's that?" Lily leaned her ear in closer. "Ol' Lil don't hear so good."

"I'm called Macavity," he repeated, looking round at Lily and the others near him.

"Heard tell the Leader d'call ye Napoleon," sneered the tom who'd told Lily to give Mack a glass of milk. "Know who Napoleon was? He was a _human_…" All the cats within earshot spat upon the floor in disgust. "…Who tried to conquer the world an' failed because he was too little an' scrawny." The tom smirked.

"The Leader can call us what he wants, can't he," spoke up a Siamese tom on Mack's other side, who had until now remained silent. "Leave off, TB, Lil, and let Macavity, here, drink in peace." The tom seemed to have some influence over the others, as they rolled their eyes but went about their own business after that.

Mack began sipping at his milk, curious as to why this tom had defended him but trying not to appear overly interested. Meanwhile, he glanced discreetly around for Bombalurina and Demeter.

There had been much fierce argument over the matter. At first, Mack had insisted on going to the pub alone—really, his idea of "keeping his friends safe" consisted mainly in leaving the two queens hidden in his den except to get out and use the litter box. Any other needs—food, water, bedding—could be brought to them. But they soon showed him how ridiculous that would be—anycat would go mad shut up in such a way, and besides, he couldn't possibly keep an eye on them at all times; what was to stop any other gang-member from coming along and doing just whatever they liked? Of course they couldn't possibly follow him _everywhere, _but that was a question to be resolved later. In just the matter of the pub, Bomba had the most experience; she had no doubt Mack would need rescuing from _some _situation or other, and she ought to be there to cue him as to how to act. Mack grudgingly had to admit that she _did _know more about the place than he. "And before you can even say it," Demeter had added, "don't _think _of leaving me behind either. I'm much safer with you two than here alone, in any case." Neither could argue _that _point. So, Mack had more or less to resign himself to the fact that he'd no longer be able to conceal from the queens his intention to find out and thwart Growltiger's plans, or keep them from becoming involved. At a short distance from the pub, they stopped, each entering separately within a few minutes of one another. Couldn't hurt to pretend to be strangers at least until they'd gauged the situation. And perhaps they could each glean information from different sources, despite Bomba's insistence that she'd never yet found out anything useful. _That's only because you weren't a fellow gang-member, _MacVitie had told her, though he wasn't at all certain. They went early in the evening, hopefully before everyone was completely dead tipsy.

And so here Mack was, catching a glimpse of Bomba's red pelt as she flirted with a tom next to her, holding a full tankard from which she only stole occasional sips, sloshing the greater part of the liquid all over the table and surrounding cats, who cackled gleefully or scowled depending on their dispositions. Glancing round for Demeter, he spotted her at another table, looking pitiful. Apparently Bomba had advised her to go the 'sob story' route, and it appeared to be working on the two toms at the table with her. All the same, Mack determined to keep tabs on that situation and intervene if necessary. Bomba had insisted _she _would see to herself and her sister, _he _need only focus on his own bit. But he was not so dimwitted as to believe Bomba and Demeter alone could take on a whole group of toms. Then again, neither could the_ three_ of them together. His heartrate quickened, and he did his best to abandon that line of thinking. Panicking was the worst idea.

"Macavity, eh," said a voice, startling him. Mack turned back to the tom beside him, having almost forgotten he was there.

"Macavity," he echoed, looking the tom in the eye, uncertain if he was being challenged or…?

But the tom merely nodded. "Genghis," he said by way of introduction. "You're the new recruit who joined recently along with that patched one, I think. Don't strike me as the sort to enjoy human liquor. What brings you here at last, then?"

Mack was rather put-out by the fact that he had come here hoping to interrogate other cats, and was already the one being interrogated himself. But, remembering Bomba's advice to 'play along, keep them talking, there's no danger as long as you don't reveal anything important, and you may just find out something,' he heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Same reasons as everyone else, I reckon," he said vaguely, testing the waters.

"One of three reasons brings us here, mainly," Genghis nodded. "Pleasure, business, or brooding. Usually the first or third. Yours is the third, I expect."

"How's that?"

"If you came seeking pleasure, you would not have taken this long to make your first visit, and you would not look so glum. If business, you would be glancing round for someone—whoever you were here to do business with."

"Perhaps I'm simply good at concealing."

"That, I'm afraid, is _not_ the case. I'd strongly advise and caution you not to display your intentions and emotions so prominently in your features and body language. That sort of thing gets one killed."

"Thanks very much," Mack growled.

"You see?" Genghis raised an eyebrow. "Fortunately for you, I am not one for confrontations except when absolutely necessary. So, I will ignore your less-than-amiable tone."

"Less-than-amiable? Where are we meant to be, the Human Queen's parlor?" He spat on the floor for good measure, as he'd seen the other cats do at the word 'human.' Genghis merely watched him, lip twitching in amusement.

"No. We are in a far _less_ forgiving place, which is why I recommend you moderate your tone."

Mack flattened his ears, but saw the sense in this tom's words. Though why anycat here would want to be so helpful was beyond him. _Play along, play along, _he reminded himself. "All right, then," he managed stiffly.

"Better," Genghis nodded. "Now we'll talk. Suppose you tell me what's happened in your day to bring you here brooding."

"Oh, well, as to that," Mack shrugged, trying to decide on the spot what was and wasn't safe to share, "I was called in to see Leader."

Genghis nodded again, his manner surprisingly sympathetic. "And the meeting was not to your liking, I take it?"

"Not especially," said Mack rather gruffly, trying to hide his confusion and not knowing where or how to look meanwhile. "But I don't suppose it's wise to speak of such meetings amongst ourselves. Might give the incorrect impression that we're leaning towards…the 'm' word." The moment the sentence left his mouth, Mack wished beyond anything that he could retract it. He sounded like a kit carefully referring to a swear word without actually _speaking_ it.

"The 'm' word?" Now Genghis looked hard-pressed not to laugh.

"Mutiny," the ginger tom muttered, looking down into his milk dish.

"Ah, yes. Perhaps you've some sense after all, to be so cautious about saying it. The word _is _somewhat fitting, as Leader has been known to use us to crew his barge…that has not happened in quite some time, however."

A few moments' silence stretched between them. Then,

"What do you mean by 'not to your liking,' anyway?" Mack resumed. "Each of us, one way or another, chose to throw in our lots with the Leader. We follow orders and live well, or we don't and get punished. Straightforward enough, but I hardly think likes or dislikes enter into the matter."

"I suppose you are correct," Genghis shrugged. He went back to his drink, as if the conversation had been brought to a close.

Mack seethed, barely holding himself back from dashing the contents of his dish all over the countertop. What a _useless _load of drivel he'd just exchanged with this mysterious tom. Glancing over at Bomba, he caught her shooting him a warning glance. He turned back round with a frustrated sigh. She _had _said not to expect much, and he'd only spoken to one cat thus far. Even so, this was torment. When thinking of what he'd have to do after infiltrating Growltiger's gang, he'd mainly considered a savage battle, impossibly outnumbered, going down fighting… This _talking_ business was much more difficult.

"It's not true, you know," Genghis said, causing Mack to give a slight jump after the long silence.

"What isn't?"

"The thing you most fear. Concerning your mother, Bella. At least, it's not _quite_ so bad as you may believe." Mack let out an involuntary gasp. This was the _last _thing he'd expected.

"What do _you _know about my…"

"Not now," Genghis hissed. "Listen: we can't speak any freer with so many cats about."

"What are you _on _about—"

"Quiet," the tom snapped. "Later. Stay until the place has cleared out. Don't speak to anyone on any important matters. Should be empty before dawn." Seeing Mack about to object, he added, "If you are concerned for your friends, tell them to feign dead drunkenness." Mack stared blankly. "Pretend to be asleep," Genghis explained. "It happens when one consumes too much of the human drink. But you wish to maintain anonymity, I see. Let me discreetly impart the instructions to them, and you may signal them I mean no harm. In a few hours all will become much clearer." He shrugged. "If you believe I can be trusted, that is."

Mack stared after Genghis, dumbfounded and too shocked to even consider the imprudence of trusting him until several minutes had passed. And even then—what? Somehow this tom seemed to know things Mack had never even mentioned. If Genghis wished to harm them or betray them to Growltiger, couldn't he do so at any time? It couldn't hurt to simply listen to what the tom had to say. If it turned out all he wanted was to murder them, well—Mack only wished he could send the queens away for safety. But they'd never hear of leaving without him.

He settled down to wait for dawn—and, he hoped, answers.


	11. Chapter 11

"What was _that?" _demanded the scarlet queen when they'd nearly reached the warehouse. MacVitie stopped and turned, holding up a paw as if to keep at bay the tirade about to spill from Bomba's mouth. It was a rather feeble attempt, however; he was much too preoccupied with the conversation that had just taken place.

"Don't start," he mumbled, "nothing happened, we're all alive, we've gained important information…"

"You had no _idea _how it would go," Bombalurina accused. "You risked all our necks on a gamble."

"We risk our necks on a daily basis here!" Demeter cut in. "Bomba," she continued, glancing nervously at Mack as if worried he'd go to pieces at any moment, "you may be the one who can best tell us if the information we've just got holds any weight or truth at all. For starters: was that really Gilbert? I…can't remember what he should look like at all, though he _does _seem to resemble Cassandra."

Mack nodded absently in agreement: _he _clearly didn't remember Gilbert from the past, either, as he'd not even questioned the tom's assertion that his name was "Genghis." An alias for his new life here, he supposed, just as Mack had given his own name as "Macavity," thanks to those ridiculous twins…But all of this hardly mattered. For a moment he allowed the others to talk around him.

"Well done making me feel _old_, the pair of you. It's him all right," Bomba answered impatiently, "but that hardly means we can trust anything he says. He's been alive all this time—what is he still doing _here?"_

"What are _we _still doing here?" Demeter countered. "What is _anyone?_ Perhaps he's been forced to stay here. He's still got Cassandra to worry about…maybe the Leader has threatened her in some way…Great Heaviside, _Cassandra! _Shouldn't we try to get a message to her, or—?"

"Why?" MacVitie spoke up. In response to Demeter's shocked look, the ginger tom shrugged. "Under the circumstances…isn't it better if she thinks he's dead? No harm is coming to her now, she probably doesn't even remember him…If we can get him away from here, along with ourselves, those twins, and the ridiculously long growing list of felines we've somehow got to rescue—well and good. She can know then. But what would be the use of telling her _now_, getting her hopes up, and then he gets killed and she never sees him anyway?"

"Mackey's reasons are rubbish," Bomba announced, "but in any case it's too dangerous, Dem'. Mack may be required to 'spy' on the 'yard and make up some report every so often, but he can hardly show himself to the others unless we want the entire Tribe here on a rescue attempt that's doomed to failure. At least that's what I _think _you've been trying to pound into us?" She raised an eyebrow in Mack's direction.

"You've caught on," he observed, choosing to ignore her sarcastic tone. "Good. Now, we can't stand about jabbering all day, so let's get moving…you two wait in the den, I've got to have a look at the Junkyard and make up some rubbish to tell the Tiger…tonight we'll discuss the most important bit: this plan they've got in the works…"

"All assuming anything we heard back there was true," Bomba interrupted. "I gather no one actually wants to hear _my_ thoughts on the question?"

"Later, Bomba," Demeter said, shooting MacVitie another worried look. "Let's do as he says. Last thing we need is to attract trouble…"

"More than we already have," Bomba muttered. "This whole 'plan' is a trap…"

Still muttering, she followed the other two into the warehouse.

MacVitie had but one thing on his mind: whatever the risks, whatever he'd said to the queens, he _had _to capture a moment's conversation with Munkustrap. These terrible questions…there was only one feline to whom he could ever dare speak them aloud.

* * *

Crouched behind a pile of old catfood cans, the ginger tom peered out cautiously. He felt himself an intruder in his own home—which, for now at least, he supposed he was. If spotted, how could he begin to explain anything?—his whereabouts for the past few months; what he was doing here now; why, if he meant well, he was sneaking about guiltily… He wondered how Alonzo had managed. He even dreaded speaking to Munkustrap—suppose the silver tabby asked too many questions, tried to persuade him to stay…but no, he wouldn't, not when considering that that would leave Bombalurina and Demeter on their own in the warehouse… Involuntarily, he cringed. No doubt Munk had been…unhappy, to say the least, that the queens had got themselves in such a fix…or, rather, that Alonzo and MacVitie had got them in such a fix… Had Alonzo told the truth, or invented some gentler version of his own? MacVitie had better not mention it until he knew… But how on earth was he to even _speak _to Munkustrap? Wait here in hopes he'd show up? Or sneak about some more and risk being seen…he'd have to get Munk to say something that sounded interesting enough to tell Growltiger, as well, just to keep him appeased…

"Light!" MacVitie ducked down at the sound of a shrieking kitten-voice. The pitter-patter of tiny paws drew closer to his hiding-place. "Light!" shrieked the voice again, in a beseeching—or, more accurately, _demanding_—tone.

"All right, all right," groaned a second voice, that of an older cat, a tom. "But not so loud, please?"

MacVitie peeked through a small gap between two cans, and saw that the tom was little Quaxo, not quite so little anymore. Well. Actually, he rather _was._ His voice had developed into a more matured pitch, but he had not grown much in physical size; the kit, though obviously very young, was nearly half his height. The kit, a little queen, MacVitie did not recognize. Yet, she seemed somehow familiar. She was black-furred, with some white points on her legs, tortoiseshell markings in her headfur and tail, and scarlet streaks scattered throughout.

It occurred to him this must be Alonzo and Bombalurina's kitten, and the reminder made him flush. He couldn't help being amused, though, wondering how poor Quaxo had managed to get stuck with kitten-duty. All at once MacVitie felt overcome by a desire to speak to the tuxedo tom, even for five minutes; but he resisted. It would be too risky, especially with the kitten around who would surely talk—if she _could_ talk. So far he'd only heard one word out of her mouth… At any rate, he opted to remain hidden at least for the moment. Perhaps soon someone would come and relieve Quaxo of kitsitting, then MacVitie could get Quaxo to bring Munkustrap here…_if _the young tom could keep quiet about it…

"I'm sorry, Silla," Quaxo was saying, "I can't seem to make the lights at the moment… It doesn't just turn on and off like a tap, you know. Or, if it does, _I'm_ certainly not the one turning the knob."

The queenkit, called Silla apparently, pursed out her lower lip in a pout. "You can does it, Waxy," she insisted, getting right up into his face and staring him in the eyes. "Con-cen-_trate_!" she commanded, pronouncing the word carefully, obviously having practiced. Without waiting for a response, she reached up and tickled him.

"Yahhh!" Quaxo yowled, startled. He jumped back, flailing his arms about. All at once, MacVitie had to drop down to the floor, narrowly missing the bolt of blue lightning that had shot over his head. _So he hasn't outgrown those odd powers or whatever it is… _Gingerly, Mack brought himself back up into his previous crouching position and peeked out again. Silla was rolling about on the floor, giggling madly; Quaxo, on the other paw, looked far from amused.

"I told you! I told you!" Silla cried triumphantly, between twitters. "Again, again!"

_"No," _Quaxo answered, so sharply that Silla ceased giggling to look up at him. "Never do that again!" The tiny queen hung her head. "Sillabub," the tuxedo tom sighed, in a gentler tone, "the lights _look_ pretty, but they're dangerous. I might have accidentally hurt you just now, or anyone else who was in the way—it's just a good thing no one was there, or things would have gone very badly. I need to practice more, all by myself, until I learn to use them safely. Until then, please don't ask to see them. Do you understand?" The kit merely stared at him, wide-eyed, solemnly nibbling her paw. Quaxo shook his head and smiled, realizing he'd used far too many words at once for a youngkit to process. "No more lights."

Sillabub took her paw out of her mouth. "Forever?"

"No, no. Not forever. Just for a while."

"When?" the queenkit demanded.

"Well," Quaxo sighed. "How about… The Jellicle Ball? Your dad's told you about the Ball, hasn't he? I will show the lights to everyone at the Jellicle Ball!"

"Jellicle Ball," Silla chanted, clapping her paws, her smile returning. "Jellicle Ball! Jellicle Ball! Lights at the Jellicle Ball!"

"All right, all right," Quaxo laughed, rather nervously, MacVitie thought—couldn't blame him, either, now that he'd just more or less set himself a deadline for perfecting his powers. "It's lunchtime…let's head back to your den and see what you're having…"

"Papa!" Sillabub exclaimed suddenly, dashing forward. MacVitie stared at Alonzo as the Harlequin tom approached the two younger felines. He looked much the same… Well, how else _should_ he look? MacVitie had almost expected some Great Change to take place now that Alonzo was a parent.

Alonzo smiled at Sillabub as they met, though he did look a trifle uncertain. She rubbed up against his knee, and he stared at her a moment before reaching down and patting her head rather awkwardly. Unperturbed, Silla seized his paw. "Guess what, Papa! Waxy is gonna show the lights at the Ball!"

"How nice," Alonzo nodded, at the same time shooting Quaxo a quizzical look. "I've got lunch," he added, holding up a burlap sack.

"Where's Tumble?" Quaxo asked, glancing around. "Weren't you taking him mice-hunting with you?"

"He wanted to go on border patrol with Munkustrap instead," Alonzo answered, somewhat shortly. "They should be here in a moment…"

"Munkee!" Sillabub screeched, dashing off yet again.

MacVitie couldn't help smiling at the scene before him. _If anyone ever feels uncared-for, they should just come see this kit. Her greetings alone are sure to boost one's morale sky-high. _However, he shifted uncomfortably as Munkustrap came into his view, Sillabub clinging onto him and a cream-and-tabby tomkit following close behind. Mack could watch the others, think of what he missed, and leave…but Munk he actually had to _speak_ to…then somehow _still_ convince himself to leave. _But at any rate I can't show myself until the others have gone. _This thought was some comfort; it meant he could prolong his stay, even if only slightly.

"All well, Munk?" Alonzo inquired.

"All well," Munkustrap confirmed. "Tumble, here, smelt something," he added, somewhat apologetically, putting a paw on the tomkit's shoulder. "That's why we're a bit late—but it's good he insisted on making certain it was nothing dangerous. Thankfully it was only a skunk." He chuckled.

"We _ran, _Dad!" Tumble exclaimed, going over to Alonzo. He didn't snuggle up to the black-and-white as Sillabub had done. "It almost stinked on us, but we got away."

"Good," Alonzo nodded, at the same time passing the burlap sack to the tomkit. "Now, have a nice lunch with Munk and Quaxo. I'd better take over patrolling…"

"Oh. Okay, Dad," said Tumble, though his face fell noticeably.

Sillabub, not so cooperative, let go Munkustrap's leg and ran back to her father. "No, Papa," she pouted. "Eat with us! We have picnic in the den. With Vicki too. Please?"

Alonzo glanced at Munkustrap. MacVitie couldn't tell if he was looking for permission or for an escape. "Go ahead, 'Lonz," Munkustrap encouraged. "I can see to things a bit longer."

"I'll help," Quaxo added, shooting Munk a significant look as if he had something specific to discuss with him.

"All right, all right." Alonzo held up his paws in surrender; it was impossible to tell if he was happy about this or not. "Picnic time, then!" he announced, a bit _too_ heartily. Taking the sack back from Tumble and catching hold of Sillabub's paw, he headed off with his two kits.

MacVitie gaped after him. Bombalurina had said there was a kit; she _hadn't _mentioned it was twins. And possibly a third? _And the tom's named Tumble…? Then Alonzo must know, but why would he name a kit after— or did Bomba name them… _Shaking his head to clear it of (for now) pointless questions, he turned his attention to Munkustrap and Quaxo.

"Someone needs to speak to you," Quaxo told Munk as soon as the others were out of earshot. He glanced towards Mack's hiding-place. "You can come out now. Believe me, I won't say a thing."

MacVitie was so shellshocked he stood up and came out to them at once. Munkustrap's eyes bugged out at the sight of him. "Vitie," the silver tabby gasped. He looked about to throw his arms around his younger brother, then seemed to think better of it. MacVitie was glad—this would be difficult enough without adding any extra emotion into the mix.

"Munkus. Quaxo," Mack nodded, doing his best to keep his tone level and nonchalant.

"Are you—where—the others—has…" Munkustrap stammered, unable to get any single question to roll off his tongue with any sort of coherence.

"You had better let Mack talk," Quaxo interrupted quietly. "We most likely have unseen company, and he hasn't got a lot of time." He glanced briefly at MacVitie before adding, "And he wants to talk to you alone. So I'll be off. It's good to see you, MacVitie. Don't worry, as far as the others are concerned, I _haven't_ seen you. Soon we'll all be together again, it'll be all right. Meanwhile, I said I'd help, and I will. Have a good talk, the pair of you. Wish me luck." The tuxedo tom disappeared behind the piles of junk, and before Mack could ask Munkustrap what on earth Quaxo was talking about, they heard the younger tom's voice again, a short distance away. He was speaking in a loud, unnatural tone, every so often giggling idiotically. "Hullo! Wanna be friends? Guess _what, _I can do magic tricks! You don't believe me, do you? _Do _you? Just you watch!"

Munkustrap shook his head, though he couldn't help smiling. "By 'help,' I guess he meant distracting whatever shadow has been sent to follow you."

"Stupid idiot," MacVitie growled, "he's going to get himself killed…"

"Quaxo's actually become quite good at holding his own," Munkustrap said in all seriousness. "But you. What do you need? What can we do? You know I'd have every able-bodied Jellicle there in a moment…"

"No," MacVitie cut him off. "How many's that—I mean of those who could _actually _help—five or six? What do you want to do, leave every kit here an orphan?"

"I am _sick _and tired of sitting about here doing nothing, wondering if you and the others are dead or alive," Munkustrap hissed. "Well, if you're not back for good, and you don't want help—what _do_ you want, then?"

"I've my report to make," Mack answered shortly. "I've got to at least think up some bit of rubbish to take back with me." He hesitated. "And I have a question…a question you won't want to answer, but you've _got _to, and completely and honestly." Munkustrap frowned, but nodded for him to continue. Mack took a deep breath and went hastily on before he could change his mind, "Is Mum a Glamour Cat?"

"I—what?" The silver tabby looked shocked, as if this were the last thing he'd expected to hear. But, MacVitie noted, there was no trace of guilt in his features. Clearly he didn't see anything wrong with the fact that he'd concealed such a thing all this time. Or could he possibly not have known?

"Answer," MacVitie persisted. "Is she or isn't she?"

"This is our _mother _you're talking about," Munkustrap said, his voice shaking as though he were trying to keep his temper in check or fight back tears or both. "Since you ask so directly… She _was_ once. But that's all over; she gave up that life, and no one ever need speak of it again." He sounded too much like he was simply reciting words he'd been fed by Old Deuteronomy. "Whoever has told you differently is only trying to hurt you." He gave MacVitie a scrutinizing glance. "I'm sorry you had to hear such awful things. But are you certain you're still focused on your chief reason for being there…? Remember what Cori said about personal motives getting in the way. What has…this…got to do with…?"

"A great deal, I'm afraid," MacVitie murmured. He hated to go on, but there was nothing for it. "There's more to it, isn't there, Munkustrap? The Dispute—it wasn't really about the humans, was it? At least," he added, as Munk began to protest, "not _exclusively. _The rivalry between our tribe and his—it's more personal than that."

Munkustrap hesitated. "I wasn't there, you know I wasn't, and no one told…"

"But you've heard things, haven't you? Here and there, at least? You've got suspicions." Munkustrap didn't answer. "Well, I have some suspicions of my own based on a certain conversation I had last night," MacVitie continued. "But it could all be nonsense, I hope to high _Heaviside _it's all nonsense. But I need to hear from you first—_anything _you've got, anything at all, to help me figure if things add up. Believe me when I say this is important—more than important—I'm beginning to think _everything _hangs on it." The ginger tom wasn't quite as certain as all that—but dash everything, he _needed _his brother to talk!

The silver tabby drew a long breath and closed his eyes briefly before speaking. "If…if it really matters all that much. Mind, I may not have anything useful to say, it may all be nonsense as well, or…"

"Let's hope so," MacVitie nodded, though he didn't believe that in the slightest. "But we need to know—or_ try_ to know. If this falls through, Bomba, Demeter, and I will be back at the start and our prospects of getting home will be further delayed."

At that, Munkustrap's look grew more determined, and he proceeded. "Soon after the Dispute…perhaps you noticed Mum seemed…different." He glanced at Mack inquiringly.

The ginger tom nodded. "I thought she was a bit distant even before that," he confided. "But definitely more so afterwards."

"She _loves_ us, Vitie," Munk told him earnestly. "She never was very good with kittens, but she did care. _Does _care. You have to know that." Mack nodded, somewhat impatiently, for him to proceed. "I had a vague idea that she was still upset over what had happened, though I still didn't know precisely what, except that there had been a fight and Hecuba had been killed. But one day I passed by Jenny's den and heard Mum's voice. Normally I'd think nothing of it, as the three of them—Mum, Jenny, and Jelly—often spent time together, but it sounded like Mum was in some sort of hysterics and Jelly and Jenny were trying to reason with her. Mum was scarcely coherent, but I heard a few words…mostly terms and names I didn't recognize… I recall 'Glamour Cats,' and her worrying that somecats called Griddlebone and Grumbuskin had found them." MacVitie gasped involuntarily. "Jenny and Jelly kept trying to persuade her that they were safe here, the Leader would not let any harm come to them, and so on. I didn't understand what I'd heard, but it frightened me. I kept it to myself for a few days, but soon couldn't stand it anymore and asked Dad about it. And he explained to me, very delicately of course, that Mum, Jenny, and Jelly had once, through no fault of their own, been forced to lead 'lives of ill-repute'—his exact words. But that was all over, the Jellicles had rescued them, helped them find not only a feline family but human homes as well…they could live happily the rest of their lives, and it never need be spoken of again. And so…I haven't. And I've tried to forget." He looked at MacVitie, his eyes pleading. "That's all I know; I promise. You've got to believe me, Vitie."

"I do," Mack answered, and meant it. It was all he could do to conceal from Munkus how agitated he'd become. His mind was hard at work, piecing together what Munk had told him with what Gilbert and the others had said. Munkustrap would expect him to share in return, and he must decide what to say and what to keep back…

"Does…does any of this help?" Munkustrap asked, sounding as if he didn't really want an answer. "Does it…match anything you've heard? And…can you tell me safely?" he added, jerking his head meaningfully. The two toms listened carefully: they could still hear Quaxo chattering on amiably with whoever-it-was. Somehow he was managing to keep them occupied for much longer than Mack had expected…

"I heard," he began, gleaning facts from one another on the spot, "that…Griddlebone…was the…Leader of the group of Glamour Cats that Mum and the others were part of. She one day came across a tom called Grumbuskin—he had a gang of his own, a load of lowlifes trying to survive on the streets like anyone else but causing more mischief than necessary in the meanwhile. They eventually decided they'd do better joining forces and came to some sort of convenient, suitable arrangement. Remember Dad mentioning that Growltiger was helped to 'go wrong' by running with the wrong crowd? It was them. Only…I think he'd _already_ gone wrong by then: the gang has only grown more savage, he's got this hatred against humans, and…Somehow _he's_ now the leader. What happened to Grumbuskin?" The question hung in the air ominously. MacVitie had already said more—or at least been more detailed, used more names—than he'd intended. If Growltiger were to get wind of this, there would be trouble…

All at once, he felt something tug on his fur. Mack looked down, startled, to see yet another kit: a little queen, white-furred, staring up at him with large piercingly-blue eyes. How had she crept up on him without his even noticing? "Hello," he said uncertainly, then looked at Munkustrap in a panic. How much had she heard?

"It's all right," Munkustrap assured him. "This is Victoria." He held out his paw to the queenkit, but she shook her head and stayed clinging to MacVitie. "You've made a friend," Munkustrap chuckled in spite of himself. "She won't waltz right up to just anyone. Vicki," he added, "aren't you meant to be having your lunch? Your papa, Silla, and Tumble just went to find you. Have you finished already?"

Victoria pulled wry face and mimicked an exaggerated chewing motion.

Munkustrap laughed again. "I suppose I'd have left too. Who chews like that, then?" She put a paw over her right eye. "Tumble. I might've known. Perhaps you and Silla can teach him some mealtime manners."

MacVitie gave a small cough, doing his best to conceal the extent of his anxiety. "Erm…Munk…"

Munkustrap took one keen glance into his brother's face before turning back to the queenkit. "Vicki, maybe by now they've all finished. Will you run along and see if they'd all like to play a game?"

In answer, Victoria bounded off, but not back in the direction of her den—rather, towards where Quaxo had gone to create a distraction. _"Munk," _MacVitie exclaimed, near the end of his rope. The two toms tore off after the queenkit, skidding to a stop just outside the junkyard gates. Instead of Quaxo fighting off a henchcat twice his size with Victoria caught in the middle, which was more or less what Mack had expected to see, a much less threatening—albeit strange—sight awaited them.

Quaxo sat on an overturned washtub with Victoria on his lap, both shaking with laughter. Seeing Munkustrap and MacVitie, Quaxo tried to get a grip on himself and explain, but Vicki tapped his arm, pointed at something, and the moment he glanced at it he collapsed into giggles again. So instead of speaking, he waved frantically with his paw to indicate just what he and Victoria were so tickled over.

Coming closer, MacVitie saw two tabby-striped kittens curled up next to one another, fast asleep. The tom was open-mouthed, snoring loudly enough to wake the dead. "I can't believe it," he exclaimed. _"Them? _He's just toying with me now!"

Munkustrap shot him an inquiring look. "What do you mean? Who is it, Vitie? You know them? Are they from…him?"

MacVitie rolled his eyes. "From him? Aye, but they couldn't hurt a fly. All they know how to do is rob you blind. But they're still too fond of playing and fooling around to be much good as spies. It explains why Quax' had no trouble distracting them."

Quaxo, who had got hold of himself at last, looked offended at those last words. "Excuse you," he sniffed. "Just _who_ d'you think got them to sleep?"

"You can do that?" MacVitie gaped, amazed in spite of himself.

"Apparently," Quaxo shrugged, trying to appear casual, though his eyes sparkled with excitement at the new discovery. "Although," he added sheepishly, "I'm not exactly sure _how. _One moment I had them spellbound by some silly tricks; the next, uh…so…they may be asleep a good while, or…"

Victoria hopped down and gave each kit a good poke. Neither of them stirred; the tom didn't even skip a snore.

"Who are they?" Munkustrap persisted. "And how can they be in league with _him?" _Much like Demeter, MacVitie noted, all Munk could think of was how young and innocent they seemed. Which, Mack had to concede, apart from the petty thievery, they were.

"Their names are Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer," Mack explained, slightly less worried about what to say now that he knew there was no one to overhear. "As far as I can gather, they're _his_ kits, his and that lady Griddlebone we were just…" He stopped suddenly, eyes widening as he picked back up on the thread of his own thoughts before Victoria had interrupted. _A gang of Glamour Cats joining with a gang of ruffians…Sending 'spies' he knew perfectly well would be easily distracted…Clearly either trusts me…not likely…no longer cares what I do… or intends to do as he pleases regardless of my compliance or lack of it… _

"MacVitie," Munkustrap broke into his thoughts sharply, "what _is_ it?"

Mack closed his eyes briefly, regathering his wits. There was no need to start a panic here. "Nothing," he said through clenched teeth, "but I've lingered too long. I've got to go…"

"What about _them?" _Quaxo interrupted, indicating the thief twins. "You going to drag them back with you?"

"Of course not," Munkustrap exclaimed. "Back _there? _Now that they've got themselves here and _you've _got them under a… 'sleeping spell,' or whatever the Heaviside this is, they had better stay. It's the least we can do," he added, looking MacVitie in the eye as if daring him to disagree. "They're not dangerous, correct?"

"Dangerous," Mack scoffed, "hardly. But whenever they wake, they'll be in a panic that their 'lady mother' will have their necks for being gone so long… Catnip, Munk, you _can't _keep them here! Are you _trying _to give the Tiger a reason to attack?" Where were Coricopat and Tantomile to back him up? Surely they'd be in agreement with him on this.

"He needn't _know_ they're here," Munkustrap countered. "If you can maintain that you never saw them…mightn't he conclude they've simply wandered off somewhere on their own?"

"He'd still suspect…"

"I don't _care, _Vitie. You just stick to it that you know nothing and let _me_ take care of things here. Whatever happens, I'm never letting you take two kits back there, to stay until they're adults and become…" Munkustrap shuddered. Victoria sidled up to him and stroked his paw gently.

"Fine, fine," MacVitie threw up his paws in exasperation, "do what you want. I don't have time to stand about arguing any longer. Now if you don't mind, there are two _more _cats back there who shouldn't be, and _I've_ got to make sure they're still alive."

Without waiting for anyone to say more, the ginger tom about-faced and stalked off. The moment he was out of their sight, he ran like mad, praying to high Heaviside his suspicions were incorrect.


	12. Chapter 12

"Demeter!" MacVitie shouted the moment he'd reached his den, for once not caring if anycat was near or who heard him. "Bomba!" Hearing no immediate response, he rushed inside. As he came to a halt, he saw Demeter, who leapt to her footpaws at the sight of him. "Where's Bomba? Why didn't you answer?" he demanded, between gasps to catch his breath.

"She went to find us some lunch. I fell asleep…"

"What are you both _thinking! _You _cannot _fall asleep, at least not without one of you standing guard! And I _told _her you were both to wait here—"

"I didn't mean to, but I was _tired," _Demeter snapped, "and we were _hungry. _Listen, Mack, I think we've both been more than fair. We've done our best to try to comply with your instructions. But some of your expectations are simply unreasonable! We're not a load of salted pork that can sit in your cupboard indefinitely. We've got to do _something sometimes! _You yourself said we were really no safer in your den than anywhere else in this rotten place, but you try and shut us up in here anyway, as if you can convince yourself that the opposite is true. Ratsdung—sometimes I think you don't care so much about our safety as making sure everything and everycat is as much under your own bloody control as possible!" The gold queen stopped, panting, unaccustomed to making such tirades, and already taken aback by her own fury and words. She hadn't known she was pacing around as she fumed, but now she noticed she was standing where MacVitie had been just a moment ago. Glancing round for him, she saw he had sunk down to the floor, his head in his paws.

"You're right," he mumbled, "I'm…sorry…but I thought…" He trailed off, unable to put together a coherent sentence, his shoulders shaking. Demeter knelt down beside the ginger tom and wrapped her arms around him. He hardly seemed to notice. The gold queen wanted to say something reassuring, but she wasn't sure precisely _what_ he needed reassuring about.

"Mum would be _livid _if she heard me using such language," she blurted out.

MacVitie removed his paws from his face and turned to stare at her in startled confusion. After a moment, he let out a strangled sort of laugh that sounded akin to a seal bark. "I won't tell."

"You'd _better_ not," Demeter warned, with mock severity.

"I take a solemn oath your secret dies with me," he vowed, then winced as he realized that probably wasn't the best wording to use.

Demeter, though, wisely chose to ignore it. "My hero," she winked. The two sat chuckling until it began to feel awkward. The gold queen, noticing she still had MacVitie locked in some sort of squeeze-hug, let go and began pulling bits of cloth from the bed and fiddling with them to keep her paws occupied. Though she wanted to know what he had been so worked up about just now, she was afraid to bring that up again now that the situation had defused somewhat.

For his part, MacVitie had no intention of letting her know what it was he'd been afraid of. She was here—she was all right—he'd been wrong. No need to go alerting her to any more worries, especially unfounded ones. Much better to discuss something else—_anything_ else. "Deme…why do we always fight, d'you suppose?"

"Bomba would say it's because you're an idiot," the gold queen informed him, keeping her eyes fixed on the fabric she was shredding into a pile of threads. _By the time these two are finished, _MacVitie thought wryly, _I'll have no bed left at all. _

"Is that what _you _think too?"

She turned and stared at him. _"I_ think you want to take on the world. You want to take care of absolutely everyone and everything all by yourself, but it's impossible, so you get angry at yourself for not being perfect and invincible, but you can only beat yourself up _so _much, so then you take it out on the ones you care for, instead of asking for any help at all." She giggled. "Which…I suppose some would say is the same as being an idiot."

MacVitie snorted. "You've got it all wrong, you're mistaking me with my brothers. Munkustrap, _he's _selfless and wants to take care of everyone all on his own. Barely even thinks of himself enough to remember to _eat. _Tugger, sure he's vain and showy, but at least he's putting on a show for _everyone_. I'm the selfish one, _I _only want to take care of—" He caught himself short of saying what he'd been about to. "Of a certain few," he stammered, face burning. "The rest of the world can go to the dogs as far as I care."

"Rubbish."

Before either could say more, a familiar red pelt swept into the den. Both turned to look, MacVitie immensely grateful for the distraction. "Good, you managed not to get killed," he began.

"Shuttup," Bombalurina snapped, cutting him off. "Here, tuck in," she said in a gentler tone, passing a pair of birds to her sister. She turned back to MacVitie, expression darkening again. "You," grabbing hold of his paw and fairly yanking him to his footpaws, "with me. Now." Bomba began pulling Mack toward the den's entrance, he too surprised to resist.

"Wait," Demeter protested, "whatever's going on, I need to take part in this conversation…"

"No." Bomba turned around and fixed the gold queen with that death-glare of hers that allowed for no argument. "You really don't. We'll be back in a mo'. Listen in and I'll never forgive you." She proceeded out of the den with MacVitie in tow, not bothering to wait for a response.

"What is going _on?" _MacVitie demanded when they were a short distance away from the den.

"You have to ask?" Bombalurina fumed. "Mr. Let's-Keep-Our-Heads-Down-And-Stay-Out-Of-Trouble. You've _really _done it now, haven't you?"

"I've done nothing!" he protested.

"Nothing!" she mimicked his tone. "Only stolen away those precious thief-kits. I knew you had a Hero Complex, same as your brother and every other idiot tom in the 'yard, but I thought you also had _sense _enough to keep you from acting so rashly. Clearly I was mistaken."

"What?" MacVitie gaped. "Where did you hear this? I didn't—" He glanced about and lowered his voice. "I didn't _steal _them! When I said we'd try to rescue them, that was mainly to keep Demeter happy. I certainly wasn't going to get them out before us! Not like this! Especially not with that crazy 'Lady Mother' of theirs!"

"Well, they've not returned, and that 'Lady Mother' thinks _you've_ done something with them. Or says she does. You've been accused, at any rate."

_"What _were you doing speaking to her to begin with? I said she's no one to be crossed!"

"She approached _me! _Would you rather I'd ignored her?"

"Well, in any case, those idiot kittens _followed _me to the Junkyard! You know the Tiger always sends _someone. _But one thing led to another, Quaxo did something to them and they fell asleep (I assume you're aware he's become this Great Powerful Sorcerer or something?), Munk twisted my arm to let them stay."

"What kind of a stupid thing was that to do?"

"I didn't have _time _to stay and argue any longer! I had to get back here because I thought—well… never mind what I thought, I was wrong. But that does remind me, you should know, what Gilbert told us lines up with what—"

"With what Munk told you? Because _clearly_, in direct violation of your own standards, you not only went to the Junkyard to appease The Leader, but you actually _showed _yourself and _talked _to folks!"

"What if I _did?" _MacVitie was ready to tear his headfur out in clumps. "We needed the information! And yes, both stories match up."

"Of course they do. Much good it does _us_. As it turns out, your actions did more harm than good. If you hadn't stopped for a chat with your brother, he wouldn't have been _able _to trick you into leaving the brats there in the first place…"

"How was I to _know _they'd be the ones Tiger'd send to follow me? They're not exactly prime choice for spies…it took nothing for Quax to distract them…"

"How can you have been here so long and _still _not get it? He has been _waiting _for you to trip up, to give him an excuse, and now you've done it at last. You've done it as surely as if you'd dragged off Jerrie and Teazer and locked them up."

MacVitie's heartrate quickened as Bomba's words began to sink in. "Done…what, exactly? What did … She tell you?"

"Oh, nothing much." Every word was cut from ice. "Only that it's…how did she phrase it… 'Time you and your sister began pulling your weight and contributing to the functions of the gang.'" MacVitie stared at her in stunned silence. So his fears had not been unfounded after all. Mistaking his silence, Bomba let out an exasperated sound. "So I've got to spell it out for you? D'you not _comprehend _how there are kits in this gang? You and Dem and your bloody innocence…if we were under any other circumstances, I'd applaud you for it…"

"I _know _what you mean," Mack snapped. "Just because I've not—had a mate yet," he fumbled, stopping himself just short of saying something much cruder, "doesn't make me a complete idiot." He glanced back towards the den, hoping beyond anything that Demeter couldn't hear them. "But that is _never going to happen," _he hissed. "Not ever. Not to you, or to her. Not on my watch."

"You talk big. What do you intend to _do _about it?"

"Well, I'll—I'll…" He looked around wildly, as if seeking help from his surroundings. What _could _he do? Fight off everycat in the warehouse? Strike up a fresh bargain with Growltiger? Get back in contact with Munkustrap, convince him to arrange a hostage-swap: the twins for Demeter and Bomba…?

"Don't you understand," Bombalurina resumed, "that there _is _nothing you can do? There never was any real agreement between you and the Tiger, nor any special understanding. He allowed you to _think _there was, until the time was right and he could have you at his mercy. Now you've only three options: do nothing, take on the entire crew single-pawed, or get help from home. Don't you see what he wants is all-out war between the Jellicles and him? You, Alonzo, your mum, Dem and me—we've none of us ever been anything more than pawns. If he can overpower and enslave all of us—"

"—He'd have majorly increased his numbers," MacVitie cut in, "and can carry out his plan… But why? He could get new recruits from _anywhere…" _

"But just so happens to have personal vendettas against multiple members of our tribe. It's as much about revenge as the Plan itself."

"How…" MacVitie gulped. "How can you be certain? Of any of this?"

"You heard Gilbert; you've heard bits of the Tiger's history; based on what you've begun piecing together, even if you _are _as slow as molasses, would you say I'm wrong?"

Reluctantly, MacVitie had to concede that her conclusions made sense.

"So…what…" The ginger tom screwed his eyes shut and took several deep breaths, forcing himself to swallow down his pride. He hadn't a clue what to do, and not to admit as much would only add to the two queens' danger. "What do we do? Have _you _got an inkling of a plan, or are you really in as much despair as you made it sound a moment ago?"

"As a matter of fact, I have. And _you_ aren't going to like it," the scarlet queen warned.

"Stop. You can just jump off that train of thought _right now," _MacVitie hissed.

"And before you've even heard it. Typical," Bomba sneered. "But hear me out and _then _tell me you've a better idea." He nodded sullenly for her to go on. "You and Dem get out. Now. Meanwhile I stay here and…"

"How—"

"Shuttup and listen, will you? I've got…" Suddenly, the scarlet queen stopped, her gaze shifting to something over MacVitie's shoulder. "No," she muttered, "no…" She tore off back in the direction of Mack's den, and he hurried behind her, though at first without the slightest idea why.

Once they reached the den he stood agape, watching the scene unfold before him as if it were some performance in which he had no role. It seemed far too unreal to be otherwise.

Bombalurina had lost all semblance of control. As MacVitie looked on, uncomprehending, the scarlet queen stood railing and screaming at a white Persian queen nearly twice her size. "You dog! You utter, utter Pollicle's tail! We had an agreement!" All these things and more Bomba was shouting at the Persian, and though Mack heard her words, they held no meaning for him. _What is she doing? _he wondered idly. _I told her to be wary of… _ All at once, a word from Bomba's tirade reached him. "Demeter!" she was howling. Like someone who has been doused by a tub of icy water, MacVitie gasped and came back to his senses. Rushing into the den, he searched feverishly, even throwing the bits of bedding around, foolish as that was. To no avail. The den was empty.

_She's gone. They've taken her. While Bomba and I went off and left her unguarded and stood arguing like idiots, they came and took her away… _His heartrate and breathing quickened, and he felt himself on the verge of all-out panic.

But no. He _must _keep it together. He needed to _think. _Demeter was missing, and here Bomba was outside railing against the queen who was never-to-be-crossed… _Bomba! _He had to do something before she got herself killed. He had to get her to see reason before it was too late, they both needed to keep their heads and lie low if they were to ever recover Demeter…

Hurrying back out of the den, without the slightest clue what he'd actually do, he started to call, "Bomba—" But he never got further than that. Something clobbered him on the head from behind. Darkness overtook him and he knew nothing more.


	13. Chapter 13

"Oh, wait! Oi fink he's comin' round!"

"Shh, not so loud—ye'll wake 'im!"

"'E's been conked out, birdbrain, 'e _needs _t' be waked!"

"All the same, let's not attrac' undue attenshun…"

"Yew don' even know what that _means, _you 'eard it from some growncat…"

MacVitie groaned, slowly and painfully forcing his eyes open. Two familiar kitten-faces gradually came into focus, faces that burst into ridiculous grins as soon as they saw he was indeed awake. "What d'you want _now?" _he mumbled, not yet able to conjure in himself the motivation to attempt getting up. "Why can't you two just attend your jobs and leave me alone?" Vaguely, he began to remember something about the twins' being last seen at the Junkyard, fast asleep under some spell or other…but that was ridiculous…

"Well, I loike _that," _Rumpelteazer sniffed.

"Some welcome," Mungojerrie added.

"Weren't yew even the bittiest _tad _worried about us?" Teazer demanded.

"What should I have been worried about?" Mack sighed wearily.

"That's _no' _funny," Teazer fumed, going more irritated by the minute. "Don' pretend ya didn't know! One minute we wos followin' yew…"

"The next," Jerrie put in, "we wos wakin' up in the den of some stranger, who wos starin' at us like…like… I don' rightly know like wot, but I didn' like the look of 'im."

"Now, Jerrie," Teazer scolded, forgetting her annoyance with MacVitie for the moment, "remember 'e turned out t'be nice enough. We've got back now, ain't we? An' 'e 'elped us…"

"He who?" MacVitie interrupted, sitting up at last, the fog slowly clearing. "Where were you? Who helped—" But there was really no reason for them to answer now. He was remembering… Looking from side to side, he added, "And what am I doing _here?_ What's happened?" He'd just noticed his whereabouts—a large dog crate, one clearly designed for Danes or Mastiffs as it had ample space for Mack to stand, sit, or lie down with room to spare. Apparently he'd made a dreadful error of some kind and was being punished for it. Or the Tiger was simply in a punishing mood today. And there was something else very wrong, but he couldn't quite grasp it yet…

"If'n y'd stop interrupting, I c'ld explain," Teazer scowled.

"It wos Mista wot helped us," Jerrie cut in, just to have the privilege of telling it before his sister, who glared daggers at him.

"Who?" Mack asked, bewildered, wondering if perhaps his memory _didn't _serve after all.

"Yew _knows _'im," Teazer exclaimed, utterly exasperated. "Y'know, Mista, that li'l magical tom."

"His name's Quaxo," Mack corrected automatically, still dazed.

"Mebbe that's wot _yew _calls 'im," shrugged Jerrie, "but 'e told _us_ t' say Magical Mister Mist…Misto…fleas… Well, Misto fer short. _Teazer _can't quite say it right…"

"So Quaxo helped you?"

"Well, nat'rally," Teazer shrugged, anger gone as rapidly as it had arrived. "Once we explained tha' yew'd be in trouble if'n we didn' return…"

"That matters to you?" MacVitie was genuinely surprised that such a thing would even have occurred to these kits.

"Yer our pal, stupid!" Jerrie snorted. "Wot'dja _think?" _

"Just don't let your Lady Mother hear you say that," Mack cautioned them. _Lady Mother…Griddlebone…what was it about Griddlebone…_

"So," Teazer concluded, "soon's you'n the nice ladies 'ave learnt yer lessons, ye'll be able t' get out o' the cage. Don't worry, time'll pass quick…"

_"What _did you say?" MacVitie stared at the two kits, willing himself not to be understanding correctly.

"Learnt yer lesson," Teazer repeated, reaching through the bars and patting his paw reassuringly.

"Every'un makes mistakes," Jerrie added, "an' has t'be taught lessons…'tis no fun, but it's 'ow fings are, no sense raisin' a fuss when it'll soon be over."

"Where…" The ginger tom scrounged his eyes shut, forcing out the question he most feared to ask. "Where are Bombalurina and Demeter?"

"Learnin' their own lessons, o'course," Teazer said matter-of-factly. "Well, it wouldn't be much punishment just t'let yew three sit in the same cage an' chat together the whole time, would it?" She giggled at the idea.

"Fine, fine," Mack waved a paw impatiently, trying to conceal the extent of his anxiety, "but where _are_ they?"

"Ah-ah-ah," Rumpel chided him, "yew ain't gettin' anyfin' more outta _me."_ She mimed zipping her mouth shut.

"We feels sorry for ya, Mac-a-thing," Mungo nodded sympathetically, "awfully sorry. But we can't disobey orders. Ev'ry'un's gotta follow the rules, an' those as don't follow the rules gets punished. Nasty bus'ness but that's 'ow it works. Yew understand."

Mack heaved a frustrated sigh, but knew that prodding any further would be useless. It suddenly occurred to him that all of this was business-as-usual to these kits—there was nothing abnormal or wrong about cats being thrown in cages, forced to fight one another, or even tortured, any more than there was anything wrong about their thievery. It simply _was._ This was their tribe, their family, just as the Jellicles were MacVitie's. Even if something _did_ strike them as strange or wrong, they most likely would be unable to even name it, for they knew no different. Mack had done _nothing_ in this regard, hadn't ventured to try and suggest to them there was a better way of living—this was one of the things Demeter had beefed with him over from the start. But if he had, and if anything had stuck, the two would no doubt be in the same situation as he and the queens—for, passionate as they seemed by nature, and young and impulsive as they still were, no doubt they'd have done something terribly foolish before now. Even the short time they'd spent in the Junkyard had probably had no effect, since they'd only been awake long enough to speak to Quaxo and get him to let them go— come to that…

"How long has it been?" he blurted out. The twins stared at him uncomprehendingly. "How long before you escaped the Junkyard, how long since I've been stuck in here, how long since I've been knocked out—"

"Yew asks too many questions, Macvee," Rumpelteazer shook her head gravely. "You'd best not."

"How long?" Mack persisted firmly. He turned his glare on Mungojerrie. "Come _on, _Jerr', you won't get punished just for telling me something like _that."_

Jerrie glanced uneasily at his sister before reluctantly admitting, "No. I…reckon not. But, see, I don't rightly know. It's all a bit confuzzled."

"Jerrie…" MacVitie squeezed his eyes shut, mustering all his remaining patience. "Try. Just _try_ to remember. Or guess. Please? It's…very important."

"Well…" The tiger tom wrinkled his nose in thought. "If'n I 'ad t'make a wild guess…four days, per'aps? Certainly no more'n a week, I should think. Well, there's been no noticeable change in the season," he snickered, before attempting to be serious again out of consideration for Mack's plight. "That's all I c'n say fer sure. Sorry. But, say, wot's so important about the time, any'ow? Surely yer punishment'll go by quicker if'n ya just ferget 'ow long it's been…"

"Because I'm wondering how long my friends have before they die," MacVitie said bluntly. He was utterly _done_ with these two.

"Die?" Rumpelteazer frowned, apparently not the least shocked or taken aback at the thought of somecat dying—only annoyed at MacVitie's foolishness.

"Die?" Mungojerrie echoed, looking anxious. "They ain't gonna _die._ Right? I don't want 'em t'die, they're nice…"

"'oo said anyfin' about dyin'?" Teazer demanded. "They's bein' _punished. _Let's not get carried away. _Lands, _Mack-o, wot sorta tom d'yew _take_ The Leader for? 'E never _kills _any'un. Well, on'y occasionally. An' on'y if they makes 'im extra special mad. An' in fact it ain't usually _him _wot does the actual killin'…"

"Yeah," Jerrie nodded vigorously in agreement, "an' so don't let's talk about _that _anymore, I don't want 'em t'die, specially not that pretty Miss Demetah…"

"Shuttup, Jer', don'tcha know she's already spoke fer?" Teazer flicked her twin brother's ear. "She's Mac-a-thing's lady, prob'ly a kit back 'ome an' all…"

"Wot sorta nutter _are _yew?" Mungo blustered indignantly. "Alls I said was she was pretty! I ain't about tryin' ta steal 'er offa Macavity here, why _would _I have me cap set fer _her, _she's much too old fer me…"

_"Stop!" _Mack shouted, having attempted numerous times to get a word in edgewise. The twins stopped arguing to stare at him. "First off, don't talk about her that way! Secondly, it's not _like _that. We're friends, that's all, and we've been fighting so much lately that we might not even _be _friends anymore."

"Rubbish," Jerrie scoffed, "me'n'Teazah fights all the time. Don't change nuffin'."

MacVitie continued as if he hadn't heard. "Third…" He shuddered, but willed himself to go on. "Just what _would _someone have to do to…'make him extra special mad,' as you said?"

"Oh, y'know, all 'is ol' favourites," Teazer said with a shrug. "But specially _conspiring. _Sneakin' about, makin' plans be'ind 'is back, an' the like. Tiger don't 'old fer plotters an' conspirators of any kind. They all ends up dead, like ol' Grumbus..." She placed her paw over her mouth as if she'd nearly said too much.

_Grumbuskin. So he _is _dead then. _

"So yew an' yer friends've nothin' to worry about," Jerrie added cheerily.

_Of course not. Nothing to worry about at all._

* * *

The striped twins ran off before MacVitie could ask them any more questions—well, really, what more could they tell him? It was up to him, now, to mull over what had transpired and rack his brains just what to _do_ about the situation, which seemed to be constantly changing. At least, his _understanding _of the situation was constantly changing.

Only, he was fresh out of ideas. Not only had he and his friends engaged in what could certainly qualify as "conspiring;" according to Bomba he had also allegedly "kitnapped" the twins and handed them over to the Jellicles. Of course, _they _were safely back now, so perhaps that no longer counted among the list of his Crimes Against Growltiger. Regardless, according to Rumpelteazer's definition of Extra Special Mad, MacVitie, Bombalurina, and Demeter all stood to be killed. But clearly none of them had actually _been _killed yet—if, as the twins seemed to think, Demeter and Bomba were indeed still living. Growltiger must have more uses for them before he chose to put their lights out. So, while this was most likely a life-or-death situation, they all at least temporarily remained on the _life _side of it. How to _keep _themselves on the life-side, now, _there _was the rub.

"Aha, lookit here, Sleepers Awake," chuckled a now-familiar voice, breaking Mack out of his reverie.

"Where _are _they?" the ginger tom demanded, going right up to the cage door. He took a step or two back when he saw, not only Growltiger, but Gilbert following close behind. "Might've known," he scoffed, turning his glare on the smaller tom. "Better hope I never get out of here, you…"

_"Tone," _Gilbert hissed as if he weren't the lying double-crosser who was responsible for getting Mack locked up. "Someone in your position cannot afford temper tantrums."

"Someone in _your _position can't afford to go about the town without watching his back…"

"Now, now, lads," Growltiger cut in, calm as ever, "we're all chums here. Genghis here," nodding at Gilbert, "rules the roost in these parts and will tell ye what's what. I merely came t'see you're comfortable. Behave yerself and do as yer told, an' ye'll be at liberty again soon enough. Till then." The tiger tom gave a mock bow before striding out of the room...or dungeon, more like.

"Well, _that _was a mistake, then," MacVitie remarked. "Better talk quickly before I figure out an escape and throttle you, you cutthroat Pollicle—"

"Will you shuttup and _listen _for even half a moment!" Gilbert snarled, pounding his paw against the crate. "I warned you about displaying your emotions for the world to see, and you have not heeded a word! Now unless you want to get yourself and your friends killed on the spot, calm yourself and hear what I have to say."

"Fine," MacVitie hissed, forcing himself to sit, begrudgingly admitting to himself that Gilbert had a point. "But you'd better talk fast and explain to me exactly where they are and what we're all charged with, which I assume you know, seeing as _you _got us thrown in here."

"I did you a favour," Gilbert sighed, as if exhausted from having to explain simple matters to a halfwit, "which you will soon realise. First, since I know you'll not listen to another word unless I mention this first, and since those ridiculous twins do not always have their story straight: your friends are perfectly well. They are in a cell similar to yours a few corridors down from here." _Corridors? What sort of a maze _is _this place? _"May I now safely proceed to other matters?" Mack nodded, still rather sullen. Gilbert lowered his voice even further. "The 'plan' of which I spoke to you…it was a false one."

"No, _really," _Mack snorted, unable to help himself. "Of course it was. All part of your scheme to get me in trouble with the Boss, throw me under the bus and then my friends and I into a cell. Tell me something I _don't _know."

Gilbert made a visible effort to control his own temper. "Are you this much trouble in the Junkyard?" He shook his head. "Do not answer that. Yes, it _was_ my intention to get you and your friends locked up. You are much better off this way, for two reasons mainly: firstly, I am official jailor here, so you are now almost entirely under my care; secondly, you'll be far safer in cages once the _real_ plan comes into effect."

"Is all of this meant to reassure me? I don't exactly feel 'safer' under the care of someone who's already betrayed me once. And _what_ 'real plan'? Are you speaking of _your _plan—or his? More tricks? Is this part of the punishment—some form of mental trickery to torture our brains?"

"You are free to believe me or not, as you please," the tom shrugged. "I am not telling you anything more, because if anyone were to question you, it's best you know nothing. And, I would not throw around words like 'punishment' and 'torture' quite so flippantly: I said you would be safer here—not comfortable."

"Is that meant to frighten me?"

"What I am trying to do is keep you and your friends _alive. _I cannot promise much else."

"Have you forgotten what we're meant to be imprisoned _for_—I gather the Tiger doesn't take kindly to conspirators and intends to have us killed at any time now?"

Gilbert let out a slight chuckle. "If you think he would ever let you off so easily, you have learnt nothing of the Boss at all. He does not want you killed, but broken. For the moment, the Boss believes me his loyal servant and I intend to keep it that way. I have free rein here, in theory, but if I am too soft on you word will get back to him and he will take matters into his own paws. Or allow the Bosun to step in. Believe me when I say you do not want _that."_

"Listen, Gilbert—Genghis—whichever it is… Whatever you have to do to me, whether it's real or false or whichever… I don't care. But take it out on _me, _not the queens."

"Are you truly as naïve as all that? Your days of being quietly left alone are at an end. You'll all of you be less than comfortable in your stay down here, and there is nothing you or I can do about that. The only promise I can make you is that any attempts at escape on your part will make matters much worse. They will not discriminate. Anyone associated with the Boss…"

"'They?' Who is coming—when—"

"I will not tell you that. I have said too much already."

"Then will you tell me _this_ at least?—It won't compromise anyone. It's nothing to do with any 'plan.' This big tabby tom, the one you call TB…"

"Tumblebrutus," Gilbert spat as if uttering a curse.

"Yes," MacVitie nodded eagerly, grasping at the name as if it were a last hope, the only thing he could possibly do to help one of his friends. "Is there a way he can…possibly be left out of…whatever it is that will happen…? I think I know his…"

"Your friend Patches knows his _father _as well as he should ever want to. Trust me. Put it out of your mind."

"Because he's worked for the Boss so long? Done terrible things? How about _you, _then? Do you think Cassandra will not want to know _you—?"_ The last word turned into a gurgle as Gilbert's paw shot in through the bars of the cage and clutched Mack by the throat.

"Do not speak her name to me," he hissed, fixing the ginger tom with his threatening gaze for a few moments before releasing him. He turned on his heel and began making his way out of the room, not waiting for MacVitie to recover sufficiently to do anything but cough and gag. "Tumblebrutus's mate took their youngkit and left him at a human's home," he threw over his shoulder. "She was caught sneaking back here and ordered killed on the spot. TB was her executioner. Believe me, your harlequin friend is better off an orphan. And so are any _other _kits whelped by that worthless…" He shut the door and MacVitie did not catch the rest.

_Other kits…? Is that meant to _mean _something to me? _

With that, MacVitie was once more left on his own to consider the situation. The one thing, he reflected, that neither he, Alonzo, nor the queens had been able to do during the course of their stay here, was get answers. And _still, _for all Gilbert and the twins had talked at him, he had no answers. No _clear _answers, at any rate. In fact, more _questions_ had been raised: namely, whether he should try to escape now or believe Gilbert and bide his time; if escape, how to do it?

And what of Bombalurina and Demeter? Was their fate entirely tied to his, or was Gilbert even now giving them their own separate set of instructions to follow? Exactly how did he intend to 'punish' them, to make their prison time miserable? Was it all meant to be psychological, or would he or some other henchcat suddenly begin beating them? Or perhaps they'd simply be starved? _And how, _Mack considered, recalling this for the first time since his imprisonment, _about this supposed 'deal' Bomba made with Griddlebone? _

That last caused him the most unease. How if Bomba had begun following her own agenda and managed to get herself and Demeter even more deeply in trouble? Apparently Griddlebone had not kept _her_ end of the deal—whatever it was—but that did not mean she wouldn't demand Bombalurina honour it…

His head ached with the sheer enormity of it all. He wanted to curl up and cry like a frightened kit, and found his mind wandering back to what Tugger, if he knew, would scornfully call "Mackey's Default:" _What would Munkustrap do here… _


	14. Chapter 14

"Up an' at 'em! C'mon, wake up, dontcha want yer num-nums?"

"Enough of that," MacVitie mumbled, "I'm not asleep, just thinking…" But as he sat up, he got the distinct impression—given the ache in his back and limbs and the droopiness in his eyelids—that he had indeed dozed off. For how long, he couldn't say. Looking at the speaker, he saw he'd once more been awakened by the twins—well, _one_ of them. "You aren't Gil—Genghis," he frowned. He felt a twinge of guilt that until this moment he'd not even considered the twins and how "the plan" would affect them.

"I should 'ope not," Rumpelteazer giggled, passing a few pieces of fish through the bars—not raw fish from the docks, either, but _nice _fish, prepared and cooked. Mack suspected Teazer or Jerrie had recently acquired it from a human—possibly straight off the human's dinner table a half hour ago.

The ginger tom glanced from the food back to the grinning tabby queen, still frowning distrustfully. "Don't you think you should take this away—and stop coming here, for that matter?"

"Eh?" Teazer scratched her head in confusion, smile faltering. "Wot fer? Why should I? Sorry if ya wan'ed to talk t' Jerrie instead, but 'e volunteered t' take the queens their share whilst I brought yours…"

"I mean that the two of you will get yourselves in trouble if you keep trying to sneak us treats."

"Wot d'yew want, to _starve?"_ the younger queen demanded.

"Of _course _not, but…"

"Oh," she laughed, realization dawning, "y'mean yew think we ain't _supposed _t' bring you anyfin'. Put yer mind at rest, M'cavity, these is our orders."

"You're certain? From Genghis?" Mack asked, still doubtful.

"Certain _sure," _Teazer assured him. "Didn' we already _tell _ya yer bein' punished, not killed? S'long as yew follow the rules, you'll eat this well every day." She gave him a solemn look. _"Have_ yew been followin' the rules?"

"I think so. I hardly know what they are."

"Oh, y'_know_, like we've toldja. No escapin', no complainin', no causin' a stir. Specially escapin'. Even a _hint_ of escapin' an' yer friends'll stop gettin' food. Boss's orders. I _can't _disobey 'im," the little queen emphasized, nodding pointedly at the fish. "So tuck in, Mackey thing, I gots t'make sure there's no spare bones. _Promise _you'll toss 'em to me if there are. Bones makes good lockpicks, y'know."

"I suppose _you _would know," MacVitie muttered, unwilling to admit that such a thought as using a bone for a lockpick had not in fact occurred to him. He had until now lived quite the sheltered life—even the horrors from his past were ones he had only heard of from his family, not seen for himself. He was certainly not automatically programmed, as Jerrie and Teazer seemed, to consider every situation from an _underhanded-dealings_ point of view. Dismissing such thoughts, he allowed himself to eat at last. He hardly had any appetite for it, his belly ached so with unease. If he and the queens were to be well-fed, Gilbert must have something _else_ in mind for them—something dreadful to show Growltiger he wasn't being too lenient with the prisoners.

"Say, chin up, Mackey," Teazer said, reaching her paw through the bars to pat him on the shoulder. "Me'n Jerrie got that nice fish _special_ for yew. No need t'be all glum an' gloomy like as yer about to expire, when I've explained that yer certainly not. Less'n you do somefin' naughty." She frowned, and shook a paw in front of his face as a warning gesture. "No funny bus'ness; I likes ya, Mackey, an' _don't _want 'im to kill ya."

"How kind of you to say," Mack rolled his eyes, forcing the fish down more for Teazer's benefit than his. "I'm rather partial to staying alive, myself." _At least for now. If anything were to happen to Bombalurina and Demeter… _No, he'd not allow himself to think that way. As he finished the meal and tossed the few bones through the bars, the tabby queenkit's grin returned.

"That's th' ticket! Righ', then, we're agreed, you'll be good?"

"Of course I'll be good," Mack sighed. What choice did he have?

"In that case, I've gotta be off now, but no worries, soon enough me'r Jerrie'll be back wif more vittles!"

* * *

But Rumpelteazer wasn't back "soon enough," nor Mungojerrie. For an undeterminable length of time—Mack had to assume it was several days, since he slept and woke multiple times—the ginger tom saw neither the twins nor anyone else. At first this bothered him but little, except that he'd hoped to occasionally receive at least _some _sort of news indicating his friends still lived. He told himself they _must _be alive—Growltiger needed them to be—they were his only hold over MacVitie, after all, surely he knew that. But then, if Mack was simply being ignored, perhaps the Tiger had decided he needed _none _of them after all? Thinking round in such circles over and over, it never occurred to MacVitie to seriously worry that he was in fact being left to die.

Until he noticed vaguely through his preoccupation that he felt "all wrong" somehow and remembered that it must have been a long time since his last meal. He had not gone completely without water as the occasional puddle appeared within his reach—evidently there was a fault in the den's walling somewhere, and thankfully it must have been rainy the past…however long it had been. Still, one needed _food_… He also began to notice his cage stinking terribly, seeing as he'd no proper litter box. Briefly, he searched around for a good way to dispose of it, perhaps a convenient hole in the wall to sweep it out through, then perhaps the next time that worthless Gilbert came round he'd fall headlong into filth… But he soon gave up the attempt. The only way he could see to remove his own dirt from the cage would be carrying it to the front and shoving it by pawsfull out through the bars. Perhaps in time he'd be reduced to such a thing, but not yet. There was still enough of the spoilt young Jellicle kit in him to disdain touching anything so disgusting, never mind that dirtiness ought to be the _least_ of his worries. He merely scooted up into a corner as far away from the litter corner as he could possibly get, and stared wearily out through the bars, wondering if he was the only living creature left on earth.

This thought gave him something of a jolt, and he couldn't help smirking slightly. It was the sort of melodramatic thing Tugger would say: "Woe is me. I am the only creature left on this earth. Wah, wah, wah." Tugger did have the ability to be quite eloquent with words when he chose. What would Tugger have named the disgusting dirtplace over there… _Dark Evil Corner of Stinking Darkness… Then I'd gather some and put it under his pillow while he slept… _Now, _that _would be worth dirtying his paws for. _At least, _he thought wryly, _if they continue keeping food from me, I shouldn't make too much _more_ of a mess… _

He was awakened by voices some time later, though he hadn't realized he'd drifted off. Languid from hunger, he didn't immediately jump to his paws and look to see who it was, as he would normally have done. It was just as well he didn't, for it caused him to pause and reflect a moment—he decided to feign continued sleep and try if he could listen in on anything of importance: though, truth be told, it was something of a chore to keep himself from _actually_ falling back asleep.

"There, see for yourself," said one voice, which he thought was Gilbert's. A moment later Mack heard a gasp quite near him, and had to force himself to remain still with his eyes closed. Now was not the moment to act rashly and lose the chance of getting information.

"Vitie," quivered the voice he knew to be Demeter's, "what have they done to you?"

"I only follow orders," continued Gilbert, unmoved. "I don't know what sort of an exchange the Lady has offered you, but I suggest you comply. She is not one to trifle with, as I am sure you have discovered. Comply with her Ladyship's wishes, and I trust your little friend here will be looked after. Continue to rebel and… Well, _I_ can't answer for what happens to him, it's up to his own good health and vitality. Not exactly looking prime even now, though, is he?"

So that was it, then. Nothing useful to hear here, only the queens being manipulated and bullied into doing whatever Griddlebone wished. And there were only so many things it could be.

"Don't," he muttered, trusting she might hear but not Gilbert. But what matter if he did? It would change nothing, and the most important thing now was to stop Demeter harming herself for his sake. Demeter gave no indication of hearing him. "Don't," he repeated, more urgently.

"He is lively enough to feign sleep," Gilbert sneered, "as if we did not know all along."

Giving up all pretense, MacVitie opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into Demeter's tormented face. "Whatever she's asking you, don't do it," he went on quickly, seeing her about to speak. "You can't trust _any_ of this lot—they are all liars. You'll give everything and get nothing in return. _Don't _let them win. I'll be fine…"

"He is an idiot," Gilbert interrupted, his voice now seeming to come from behind Mack, who didn't bother to turn and look at him. "He always was _that_, I think, but now he is also half-starved and crazed. I would not pay any attention to what he says."

Demeter opened her mouth to reply, but MacVitie never heard what she was about to say. He heard the henchtom mutter into his ear, "I am saving all of your lives," before an odd smell entered his nostrils and all went blank again.


	15. Chapter 15

_Late Autumn_

When next he woke, something felt different. Well, _many _things felt different—he scarcely knew where he was, for one—but what really stood out to him was the smell in the air. Or, more accurately… _It doesn't stink, _was his first coherent thought. _At least, _he had to amend, _I think it's improved from what it was before…before… _Before what?

Forcing his eyes open with some difficulty, he looked around him, keeping still half from exhaustion (though he couldn't recall why) and half to stop himself panicking as he tried to work out where he was and what was happening.

It didn't take him long to recall his cage and all the recent events that it brought to mind. But what was different?

_More space, for starters. _Rather than a dog crate, he was now simply in a room—storage closet or some such notion—which had no window, and a door he assumed was locked, but much more spacious than his previous prison all the same. And in one corner… _Really? _They'd provided him an actual litter box. He glanced down, and right beside him was a dish of water and some bits of meat and kitten chow.

That did it. This _must _be some bizarre form of psychological torture. Starving him one day, stuffing him the next… Well, never mind that for the moment. _Might as well take advantage of the conveniences as long as they were here, _he reasoned to himself. Accordingly, he used the litterbox and then resumed his former place, forcing himself to slowly eat a little even though he felt somewhat nauseated.

As he ate, he attempted to sort things out in his mind. The last "news" he had was, as far as he could make out, that Gilbert was trying to persuade Demeter and Bombalurina to "cooperate" with whatever it was Griddlebone wanted them to do. He'd brought Demeter to see how badly-off MacVitie was…but now…

Mack grimaced down at the piece of meat in his paw, resisting the urge to spit out what was in his mouth. If he was now being fed and well-treated, it could only mean the queens had finally agreed to…

_Not necessarily, _he tried to reason with himself, _perhaps you are only meant to _think _so._ He entertained this hope for barely two minutes together before dismissing it. Gilbert might play such games—he hardly knew—but Griddlebone wouldn't. She was ruthless. She held everycat to his or her word, even if the Persian queen failed to honor her _own_ promises. If she had truly given Demeter and Bombalurina an ultimatum as to what they were required to do in exchange for Mack's well-being, she would be certain to hold them to it. And who knew how _long_ it had been since the time in question? Well, clearly not long enough for him to starve to death, but…

"What did they ever have to come here for?" Mack hissed, unreasonably furious in his worry about his friends. "First they follow us here, then they get themselves and me in trouble…" He had, of course, been in plenty of trouble without them and had been making no progress whatsoever before their arrival, but he was hardly ready to _admit_ that even to himself. Too angry to form anymore sentences, he began uselessly pounding the floor with his paws.

In this state Rumpelteazer found him a short time later. "'Ere, now, wot's this? 'Avin' a kitten fit, are we?" she exclaimed in her loudest, cheeriest tones. "Not 'ungry fer yer vittles? Eat 'em, they's awful nice…"

"Listen, Teaz'," Mack growled, "I'm in no mood for games. You're going to tell me something even if I have to…" He took a deep breath in an attempt to rein in his temper. "…Even if I have to tickle it out of you," he finished lamely.

"Tell ya somethin'…?" Teazer seemed to ponder for a moment. "All righ' then! If'n y'wants me t'be brutally honest… Yew could use a bath."

_"What?" _Mack stared at her, too taken aback to make an even angrier remark.

"Yeah," she nodded solemnly, "looked at yerself lately? Dusty coat, uncombed whiskers, headfur stickin' out ev'ry which way… I won't deny yer awful 'andsome when ya wants to be, but ya mostly looks like a circus clown jus' now." She scratched her head. "Naw, maybe more like one o' them shaggy carpets I've seen in 'umans' sittinrooms…"

Before Teazer could go on, the door suddenly burst open, admitting her twin.

"Teazah!" Mungojerrie gasped, slamming the door shut behind him, "They's—they's…" He puffed and blew, panting, trying to get his breath sufficiently to talk. "Some'un's…"

_"Wot, _Jerrie? Speak _up!" _Teazer exclaimed in annoyance. "Gracious. Can't get no _sense _outta somefolk!"

"I know just what you mean," muttered Mack, though he too watched Jerrie anxiously, waiting for an explanation what the striped tom was so frightened of.

"Some'un's come an'…an'…kitnapped Lady Mother! Scary new cats I's never seen b'fore! An' now they may be comin' fer _us!" _Jerrie practically wailed.

"Scary cats," Teazer scoffed, rolling her eyes meaningfully in Mack's direction. "They was just some 'enches er other. Clearly yew needs ta lay off the catnip…"

"What did they look like?" demanded Mack, causing both twins to turn and stare at him.

"Yew _b'lieve _'im?" Teazer exclaimed. "Why Oi never 'eard such nonsense!"

"I don't doubt _you've_ believed stranger things," MacVitie countered. "Jerrie, tell me what these stranger cats looked like."

"Looked like?" Jerrie hesitated. "Like…like...well, cream an' brown-furred wif blue eyes."

"Sounds perfec'ly ordinary," scoffed Teazer. "Don't see wot's scary 'bout _that." _

"But they look'd so mad an' angry," Jerrie whimpered. "An' tough an' strong, an'...they'ad some sorta... _knives! _Like we'd see in a 'uman's kitchen but _giant _an' sharper lookin'! They could slice our paws off! They's like that. I didn't see more'n that. Ran fer it. They'd already taken Lady Mother," he added, "an' I thought ta find help. But they seemed t'be ev'rywhere an' I couldn' get outta the basement… Then I thought at least _yew'd_ be 'ere an' we c'ld come up with sommat of a plan…B'fore they comes an' kills us…"

"They won't," Mack interrupted.

"How c'n yew possibly _know_ that?" Jerrie gasped. As if on cue, the sound of quickly-moving paws approached. "Wot'd I tell ya?" the tomkit cried. He stared at the door in terror, but it didn't burst open. Instead, they heard a "click" as it locked.

"Cat_nip!" _Teazer cried. "I'd forgot it locked fr'm the outside…"

"Do not interfere," snarled a voice through the woodwork. "Stay here and keep quiet and you will come to no harm." Before any of them could respond, whoever was outside had gone.

"Stay here?" MacVitie rolled his eyes. "As if we _could_ go anywhere…"

"'Course we can," Teazer countered. "They's always a way out… Well, _you'll _'ave t'stay here, Mac-o-thing, yer still in disgrace…"

"Yew fink that even _mattahs?" _Jerrie demanded, grabbing his sister's paw. "D'yew even _realise _wot's happenin'…" He scratched his head. "Er, er… wot _is _happenin', Macvee?"

"Wot makes ya fink _he'd _know?" cried Teazer, as if she'd _had _it with both toms and was utterly oblivious to the fact that there was a crisis on. She whirled round to face Mack. _"Do _y'know? _Why _d'yew know? _What in catnip is goin' on?" _she fairly screeched the last bit, flinging the remains of MacVitie's dinner at the wall and then proceeding to collapse into a sobbing heap on the floor.

At his wits' end, Mack threw a desperate glance in Jerrie's direction. The younger tom's expression—of concern, but not shock—indicated to Mack that this was by no means an unheard of behavior on Teazer's part. At least, Mack supposed, concern over his sister had caused Jerrie to forget his own mad terror for the moment. But they'd be _none_ of them any good if he couldn't get both twins to pull themselves together and…as he'd been longing for all along…_talk sense. _

Carefully, he moved to Jerrie's side. "So what d'you do when she's like this?" he asked in a low voice, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"Erm…" The tiger tomkit shrugged helplessly. "Heaviside if I've figgered it out yet. Gen'rally just er…wait…till it stops?"

_Well. _Mack shouldn't be surprised.

On the wild chance that Teazer might respond differently—or snap out of it more quickly—to someone other than her brother, MacVitie sat down next to her and gave her an awkward pat on the head. For the umpteenth time he wished Munkustrap were here to deal with this madness. _He'd _know what to do with these crazy twins. "Teaz…it's okay…we'll think of a plan…" _Emotional kittens…again…why… _Reminded of the situation at paw, he motioned to Jerrie to sit down across from him, trying not to show his worry.

"I don't really know what _exactly _is going on," he explained carefully, thinking perhaps Teazer would 'snap out of it' more quickly once she realized they weren't paying attention. "Gil—Genghis mentioned…that _something _or _someone _was coming, but was very vague about it. But I believe what they said out there—that as long as we stay put, we won't be harmed." He wasn't as confident as _all _that, but he couldn't have the twins panicking any more than they already were. "Now, I need you to think a moment and tell me—where are Demeter and Bombalurina? Are they safe? I think you can say anything you want now," he added quickly, anticipating protests. "The Leader and the Lady Mother are a bit busy at the moment." Whatever The Tiger's involvement in this whole situation, it was a pretty good gamble the doings of the twins and MacVitie were not foremost in his mind. As for Griddlebone…according to Jerrie she was kitnapped.

"They…" Mungojerrie hesitated. "They wos…perfec'ly well when…when Oi last saw 'em."

"Which was…?" Mack prodded.

The tiger tomkit hung his head and almost whispered, "Just a bit ago."

"You…" Mack tensed, willing himself not to lose his temper again. "You _left _them? On their own?"

"They said Oi sh'ld run, whoever-it-was didn't 'ave a key an' so couldn' harm 'em an' I sh'ld hide till the newcats'd gone an' then come back to check on 'em…"

MacVitie kicked a few pieces of his spilt food around, but otherwise controlled himself. Only the reminder that Jerrie was just a kit kept him from doing more. "Fine," he said shortly. "The other cats have gone now. We can go fetch Bomba and Demeter." Ignoring Jerrie's protests that they were trapped and didn't have a key to the queens' cell in any case, Mack turned and gave the queenkit a shake. "Teazer? Teazer, please, I need you to get up now. The danger's passed for now, and others need your help. You mentioned something about 'there's always a way out'?"

Startlingly, Teazer leapt up onto her paws and grinned at the two toms as if nothing had been amiss in the first place. "Well, Oi was _wonderin' _when you'd ask!" Mack frowned, but let it pass. If the twins were going to make themselves useful now, he didn't mind a bit of melodrama on their part.

"But d'yew really know a way out?" Jerrie asked, still puzzled. "They's no windows…an' don't recall ever bein' in 'ere b'fore…guess we've gotta start fr'm scratch an' find some crevice er other?"

Mack glanced at him in genuine surprise. "So you two actually have secrets from one another?"

"No!" Jerrie responded immediately, offended at the idea. "She just means we're so 'andy wit' findin' our way outta places, we're _sure_ to fin' a way outta this'un…" He looked to his sister for confirmation. "Er, righ', Teaz'?"

"Well…" Teazer attempted a penitent look, but failed miserably and gave herself completely over to her expression of triumphant glee. "I can't tell yew _everythin', _can I, brothah?" Seeing his devastated look, she rushed on, "S'pose we were in trouble an' Leadah decided to torture us an' we both gave away all each other's secrets? _Then _how'd ya feel? Didn't considah _that, _didja?"

"All right," MacVitie broke in, growing restless, "so do you know a secret way or not?"

"Shame," she sighed, "soon's I show ya, we're _all_ gonna be in the secret, an' there goes _that _safety-net…"

_"Teazer!" _both toms prodded. Her only response was to glance up at the ceiling. Following her gaze, Mack saw that one of the tiles appeared to have been chewed by mice.

"Boost," she said to Jerrie in a commanding tone. Still offended at her having secrets from him, Jerrie rather grudgingly bent down and let her scramble up onto his shoulders. Very carefully, he stood up again to his full height, allowing his sister to just barely reach the ceiling. Whacking and shoving at the chewed tile, she shifted it until the opening was large enough for her, and, with a slight jump, managed to pull herself up into the crawlspace.

MacVitie looked on, baffled, afraid any attempt on his part to aid in the operation (which they'd clearly carried out before on burglary missions) would only cause the two younger cats to fall. "How'd you ever manage that on your own?"

"This's the fuhst time I've tried it in this partic'lar room," Teazer admitted. "Been explorin' the ceilin' space fer some time now, an' coun'ed on there bein' a loose tile in here like there is in most've the rooms. So! I'll just go off an' see wot c'n be done fer our friends, shall I? Be righ' back to report!" And she scurried off before either tom could object.

"An' here I thought we shared _everythin'," _Mungojerrie sighed dramatically.

MacVitie's mind was on a completely different strain. "She could have gotten us all out long ago," he breathed. "Or we could have at least _tried_…If she really knows so many passageways…" He fought down fury that threatened to choke him once more, fury at all the wasted time, the needless months of misery…Forgetting that Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer believed escape to be out of the question, and furthermore weren't aware of any plan to bring them along even _should _Mack and the queens miraculously manage it.

Mungojerrie turned to him with a look of astonishment. "Nevah," he said earnestly, "we c'ld _never've_ done it. Ye've been locked up an' asleep much o' the time, Mackavee, y'don' realize just 'ow tight-shut this place is. Even when you an' yer friends was all free t'move about… Some'un's _always_ watchin'…" Even now, he glanced around uneasily as if a spy would spring out at them any moment. "Dontcha think," he continued in a whisper, "we've ever wan'ed t' try fer a…diff'rent way o' livin'? All respect an' love t' Lady Mother, but it's 'ard not t'be curious about othah ways…we seen nice cats livin' with 'umans, smallah groups o' cats runnin' the streets t'gether, it seemed like a lark. Once we figgered we'd try it, just fer awhile. We wos fixin' t'get some fings from 'umans any'ow, so we decided t'stay there fer the night an' see 'ow fun it was. But b'fore we c'ld climb in th' window, we found ourselves dragged by the ears back 'ere. Got a talkin'-to an' a long while in th'cage fer that'un. Cured _me _of evah thinkin' 'bout diff'rent ways o' livin', lemme _tell _ya!"

MacVitie was not convinced this whole place was as secure and inescapable as Jerrie made out, but regardless, the twins had clearly been terrorized into believing it was. If they were helping him now, it must mean the place was truly deserted. _Maybe it really _is _mainly smoke and mirrors here and Growltiger and Griddlebone are not nearly as powerful as they seem… _"And so you never got to try living with humans… But I suppose you got a little bit of time trying the _other_ different way? Living with another group of cats. Did you like it?"

Jerrie's face lit up noticeably. "Ehh, that junk place where yer friends live, yeah? Well, some've it's fuzzy, but every'un seem'd nice an' fun. That Mist cat wos quite the wondah. M…Mu…Monkee Tap? That stripey one… 'e wos nice too, an' some nice-lookin' ol' mothah-queens. Wouldn't've minded stayin' a longer visit, but duty called, y'know."

It was interesting hearing the twins' understanding of right, wrong, and "duty" explained so fully. Mack's heart sank at the mention of his brother, but simultaneously he had to turn around and hide a laugh at the other bit. What would Jelly and Jenny think of being called "old mother-queens"?

"Well," he shrugged, getting ahold of himself, "maybe you two will get a chance for a longer visit soon." He had never intended to give them even that much hope or a hint of escape, but with everyone else so occupied with…whatever was going on, some sort of great showdown between Growltiger and the strangers, he imagined… This was the best chance to slip away unnoticed. Gilbert had said not to interfere…but surely it made no odds to him if MacVitie, Bombalurina, Demeter, and the twin striped kits simply left here altogether? _Unless The Tiger still has some sort of hold on him…or perhaps he had to strike a new deal with those other cats…Maybe now matters are worse than ever… _It occurred to him that, even if Growltiger and Griddlebone were defeated (he refused to consider any possibility of their being _killed_, which would only open up a whole new dilemma of "should-we-save-them-even-though-they're-our-enemies"), these strangers who were fighting them might be even _worse_ overlords.

In any case, first they had to get Demeter and Bombalurina out, Mack reminded himself, pushing aside these other anxious thoughts until later.

Teazer's face soon reappeared in the opening made by the missing ceiling tile. "Ready?" she called out.

"Are they all right?" MacVitie grilled her. "Can we get them out? Can we help them up into the crawlspace—"

"Already done," the tabby queen declared. She giggled at the two toms' stunned expressions. "Jerrie, y'look like y' can't decide whether to be proud o' me or mad 'cause you didn't get to'elp. C'mon, be a sport, lemme 'ave the oh-kay-shnull solo stunt!"

"All right, all right," said Mack, impatient to see if his friends were really there and were well off. "Let's get you three down. Or shall Jerrie and I just get out of the way as you can manage just fine on your own?"

"Oh-ho, don't _yew _be bittah too, Macavee," Teazer scolded. "Yew silly things. Yew c'n last a few minutes not playin' the heroes and still survive okay, b'lieve me! But yeah, Oi fink we c'n manage… Do stan' by in case'f emergency if y'like." She paused. "Actually, if'n the two'f yew c'ld shove that there ol' desk this way…so's we don't need t'drop quite so far…"

MacVitie and Mungojerrie rolled their eyes, but did as asked. "Coulda done that in the fuhst place," Jerrie commented, "then y'needn't've got on me back."

"Yeah," Rumpelteazer laughed, "an' you'd've been hurt thatcha didn't get to 'elp at _all!" _

"All right," Mack sighed, holding up his paws, "we get it, we're useless and you're brilliant, now will you all just get down now and explain how you managed the escape so easily?" It troubled him that they'd got away unchallenged—and that, as yet, he hadn't heard a word from Bombalurina or Demeter. Teazer seemed unconcerned, but that didn't mean a lot—not much that happened here could shock the twins, and besides she was rather caught up in her own triumph.

"Fine," Teazer sighed dramatically. She hopped nimbly down onto the desk and then to the floor, followed closely, though rather more slowly and carefully, by the two Jellicle queens.

MacVitie half held out his paws, uncertain whether he was about to gather the two queens into the world's largest bear-hug or— But Bomba's decidedly vindictive glare and the way Demeter shrank back, practically hiding behind her sister, made him reconsider and back off to give them space. "Are you all right?" he asked, in a much more subdued tone than he'd been using a moment ago.

"You've got a nerve, asking that," hissed Bomba through clenched teeth. "But never mind. Just get us out of here. What's the plan?" Not even allowing time for a response, she added, "Of course. There _isn't _one."

"There _will _be," Teazer put in helpfully. Jerrie only eyed the queens uncertainly, unnerved by Bomba's harshness.

Mack, too, was rather taken aback, but determined to make the most of it. No doubt he deserved Bomba's abuses and then some, but the priority was getting everyone out of here. But Demeter had still said nothing; _that _terrified him. "The first plan was getting you two out, so we could all form the next plan together," the ginger tom explained, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I didn't realize that bit would take so little time." He winced slightly, realizing as soon as he said it that he'd made a poor choice of words. Drifting in and out of consciousness as he had, he'd had little concept how long their captivity had lasted; doubtless it had seemed an eternity to the others. Again, he forced himself not to think of what they must have been through; at this moment, dwelling on that could help no one. "I mean," he added uselessly, "so little time since the stranger cats showed up. How did you manage it, Teazer? Getting them out of their cage, I mean?"

"We were never _in _a cage," Bomba practically snarled, cutting off Teazer's reply. MacVitie glanced confusedly at Jerrie, who had definitely mentioned a cage. "Not a locked one, at any rate," the scarlet queen added, as if that made matters any clearer.

MacVitie's eyes widened. "But then…" he began.

"No," Bomba stopped him. "Don't ask. Do. Not. Ask." She looked at the twins. "And _you_ two, whatever you think you know, keep it to yourselves. If I talk about it…or anyone else talks about it in front of me…" She turned her glare back on MacVitie. "I just may kill you. And much as I would enjoy killing you, I _do _think it would be somewhat unhelpful to our escape, not to mention _one _of your brothers would never forgive me. So forget it. Just tell me how you aim to get us out of this rat hole once and for all."

"Wot're yew sayin'?" Mungojerrie gasped. "You ain't…you ain't really thinkin' of _escapin'?" _

"What'd you _think _we've been talking about?" Bomba demanded. "You bother to explain _anything _to these kits?" she asked MacVitie without looking at him.

"I didn't want to get their hopes up," Mack began.

"Oi jus' got through _explainin' _to ya, Mac-a-thing…" Jerrie looked round at all of them, exasperated. "We've explained to _all _of yew, sev'ral times, that there _is _no escape from 'ere. Right, Teaz'?" He appealed to his sister.

"Well…" Teazer hesitated. Jerrie's eyes widened, and he gripped his headfur with his paws as though he meant to keep himself upright by this method as his whole world came crashing down around him.

"We're all gonna die," moaned the tiger tomkit, sinking down to the floor.

"Oh, just shuttup an' listen," growled his sister, eyeing her twin with disgust. "Normally, o' course, yew'd be right. But _think _on it; righ' at this moment, the entire place is deser'ed…"

"We don' _know _that," Jerrie mumbled feebly into the ground.

"It's as deser'ed as it'll _evah _be," Teazer insisted. "If'n there were evah time to escape, now'd be it."

"So you _do _want to leave?" MacVitie cut in, eyeing the queenkit in some surprise. He'd assumed she and her brother were both attached to this place not only by fear, but by at least some semblance of loyalty, however misplaced.

"Well, Oi at least wanna get _yew _three outta here," Teazer snapped. "It's clear yer all soft as daisies an' won't last much longer. As fer me'n Jerrie, well… Lady Mother prob'ly won't take so kindly to our gettin' yew'uns away, so…we may end up exiles, an' then if yew fink yer folks won' mind, we c'ld stay with yew a while?"

"We won' get the chance," Jerrie repeated stubbornly. "She'll fin' us an' kill us. An' if we stay at that junk place, she'll fin' all our new friends and kill 'em too."

"It's pos'ble," Teazer acknowledged, sounding perfectly unconcerned. "But worth the risk, ain't it? _Ain't _it?" she demanded when her brother failed to answer immediately.

"I…er…"

"I never 'eard of such bloody cowardice in me whole _life!" _Teazer screeched, turning from her brother to look in exasperation at the others. "Yew three're the on'y _proper _friends we ever made. Leastways, Oi _fink _so. Ev'ry'un we ever knew 'ere _demanded _somefin' of us, but yew…yew barely knew us an' decided straight-off t' try an' protect us fr'm…fr'm…well, yew didn' even know wot, jus' that yew'd try to stop us dyin' if'n it ever came to it. Fer no reason but that yew…yew _wanted _to?" She whirled back round to face Jerrie, who'd sat up and now at least had the good grace to look slightly ashamed of his display. "An' _yew _won' even take a tiny risk fer _them?" _

"It ain't no _tiny_ risk," Jerrie muttered. "But…but Oi reckon yer righ', sis…Oi…we…" He gulped, stood, and took MacVitie by the paw. "We'll, er… So wot's the plan?" he stammered, by way of apology.

"Well, _that's _better," said MacVitie gruffly, trying to conceal the fact that Teazer's assessment of their short acquaintance had caused his eyes to blur somewhat. "I'm…not going to try to order anyone to do anything," he continued, looking round at all of them, though afraid to meet Demeter's gaze. "We all decide on a plan together, or we don't have a chance."

Bombalurina shook her head. "How profound."

"Bomba," he sighed, "please help me in this. Feel free to kill me later, but don't ruin our chances now..."

"I can't leave," spoke a voice, barely above a murmur, startling them all into turning round and looking at Demeter.

"Demeter," MacVitie ventured pleadingly, "we _have _to…" Bombalurina glared him into silence. Demeter kept her gaze fixed on her sister, as if no one else had spoken.

"I'm not going anywhere," the gold queen repeated.


	16. Chapter 16

What a complete and utter idiot he was. How could he have thought they could all simply walk out of here and be on their way? Of _course _nothing could be so simple… He ought to have considered this possibility. But he'd had a few _other_ things on his mind…

"Which way now?" he muttered, glancing side to side in the dark hallways, searching for any lurking henchcats, every fiber of his being screaming at him to turn around and hightail it out of here. But to do that, he'd have to drag a wildly-protesting queen along with him: and he wasn't so sure he could win that fight.

"Left," Demeter answered, barely audible, in a vague tone that could have been addressing the empty air.

Obediently, he turned left. "Demeter…"

"You should have gone with the others," said the gold queen in the same tone.

_"You _should have gone with the others," MacVitie countered. "You could still…" he began, knowing already that it would be useless.

"No."

* * *

He and Bombalurina had nearly throttled one another in the process of determining who would make good the escape with Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, and who would stay to help Demeter. The gold queen, meanwhile, had tried to persuade them _all _to leave while she stayed alone. In the end, obliged to choose, she chose to have MacVitie stay. Bomba was livid, but no amount of arguing would change Demeter's mind, and they'd wasted enough time already.

Now MacVitie wondered why she'd chosen him, when surely Bomba was more acquainted with the situation and Demeter still would not even meet his eye. Perhaps she calculated that Mack was the stronger of the two, should it come to a fight—though Mack was not at all sure of that himself.

Then again, Demeter had good enough cause not to be quite in her most reasonable frame of mind.

A kitten's life was at stake.

* * *

After navigating what seemed endless corridors of twists and turns (which MacVitie desperately hoped Demeter could find her way out of again, as _he _for one was hopelessly lost!), they came to what looked like the door to a storage room, with a clumsily-installed kitty door. Demeter froze.

MacVitie glanced from the queen to the door and back again. "Is there anything I should know before…?"

The gold queen held up her paw and put her ear to the door. After a few moments she seemed satisfied and pushed her way through the kitty door. Not knowing what else to do, having no instructions apart from "get in, find kit, get out," MacVitie followed.

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting… Griddlebone sitting on some sort of throne, throwing around orders to equally-evil-looking henches who rushed about to do her bidding? _But no, she was supposedly 'kitnapped…' _Evil humans walking around in white coats? Cages lining the walls with ten cats to a cage, perhaps? At any rate he expected something much more sinister than the scene that actually greeted his eyes. For a moment he had to pause, take stock, and remind himself where he was—still in the depths of a warehouse, on Growltiger's turf, nowhere near home-free yet.

For it looked like a scene straight out of the Junkyard: several queens lounging about, chatting together, napping, occasionally remembering to turn an eye towards the dozen or so kittens that ran about the room, climbing piles of boxes, jumping down from piles of boxes, purposely or accidentally creating avalanches of boxes, hiding _in _boxes… Just generally making up games with boxes, which were what took up the bulk of space in the room.

Noticing Demeter, a few of the queens called greetings to her, while others eyed her with…MacVitie couldn't tell if it was pity, disdain, or a mixture of both. As Demeter strode purposefully through the room, MacVitie paused uncertainly near the door, watching in case she should need any sort of assistance, but getting the sinking feeling that he'd just walked into a place meant to be off-limits to the likes of him.

The queen nearest him, a rust-and-black tortoiseshell, seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Here, wot's this?" she demanded, standing up and fixing him with a threatening glare. "Don't stand there gawping, dunderhead. You knows the rules, the where and the when. It ain't here an' now, see, so just you clear off an' there'll be no trouble!"

"Just hang on…" MacVitie protested, though instinctively taking a step or two to move farther away from the queen who'd spoken. "I'm not here to make any trouble, apologies if this's your turf, I'll be gone in two ticks…" He stalled, glancing round for Demeter, heaving a sigh of relief when he saw her heading back towards the door, towing a small cream tomkit with a mixture of tiger stripes and brown patches.

"I don't think he _does _know the rules, Jezza," remarked another queen, with what sounded like a snicker. Or perhaps she was only clearing her throat… "I don't think he knows what you're talking about at _all. _Looks practically still a kit himself."

"'Spose yer right," the queen called Jezza muttered, eyeing MacVitie up and down. "New recruit, eh? Well, just you get back to whatever it is yer supposed to be doin'. Boss finds you _here_ at this hour, we'll all be in trouble. Fun an' games starts after sundown, I'm sure one o' yer pals will tell you all about it an' show you the ropes an' you can visit when you ain't on guard duty. Now get along with you."

"Happy to," Mack nodded, pulling a very obvious 'time to go, _now' _face at Demeter and making for the exit.

"Just where d'you think _you're _off to, Lady Metta?" demanded Jezza. Mack was just about ignoring the queen and continuing on—when he glanced back and realized she was addressing Demeter. _Metta? _

Demeter stopped in front of Jezza, keeping a firm hold of the tomkit's paw, despite his wriggling impatiently to keep moving. "Listen, Jezza—"

"That's _Lady _Jezza t'you," Jezza interrupted, getting up from her seat to stand imposingly toe-to-toe with Demeter.

Refusing to be intimidated—the only sign of nervousness a slight trembling of her paws—Demeter stood up straighter and took on the no-nonsense tone she'd heard so often from her mother. MacVitie couldn't resist a slight smirk at the sound of it. "Let's just drop the theatrics, shall we? Neither the Boss nor the Lady is here at the moment, and…"

"If _that's _the case, all it means for _you _is that I am in charge until the Lady returns," Jezza informed her.

"So can't you just give me ten minutes to take Carbuckety out for some air?" Demeter asked, doing her best to sound unconcerned.

Jezza raised an eyebrow. "They gets names when they's old enough to take assignments from Boss, and not a minute sooner. An' as for _this _one…he's not likely to get a name at all. You know wot The Lady had decided for _him. _An' as I recall… No one told _me _you were off your punishment and free to walk about… I dunno wot yer playin' at, Missy, but you'd just better stick with me until the Lady returns and we can get this sorted…" She made as if to take Carbuckety's paw and pull him away from Demeter.

On a sudden, desperate impulse, MacVitie leapt into action. He dashed over to the two queens, scooped Carbuckety up in his arms, and fled the room, first shoving the tomkit through the kitty door and then following, hoping with all his might that Demeter would follow—_could _follow before the other queens could detain her. Once in the hallway, he tucked the squirming kit under his arm and ran—though in truth he was uncertain of the way. Still, the thing was to get the kit to safety—or at least to some temporary hiding place—and then return for Demeter if needed. Everything in him screamed to go back for her _now_—but he knew full well that she would refuse to go anywhere without the kit, and so what would be the use? The other queens outnumbered the two of them, could easily get Carbuckety from his grasp, and then they'd be back where they'd started… Only worse, because those other queens would have figured out what Demeter and MacVitie were up to and would toss them back in a cage and turn them over to Griddlebone when she got back. He couldn't exactly throw Demeter over his shoulder and run away with her the way he had done with the kit…

_Speaking of… _Little Carbuckety, having apparently overcome his shock and decided he disliked the situation he was in, began mewling and struggling so that Mack nearly dropped him. "Listen, kit," he muttered, pausing to get a better grasp on the little tom, "I'm trying to save your life here and you're _not _helping…" Suddenly, MacVitie heard the sound of pawsteps coming towards them—not from the direction they'd come, which he was expecting at every moment, but from the direction they were _going_. Panicked, he glanced about for a hiding spot. Seeing none, he shoved the kit behind him and prepared to take a stand against…whomever…

"What are you _doing?" _demanded a familiar voice.

"Bomba," MacVitie gasped, nearly crumpling to the floor in his relief. He was too glad to see her at the moment to even bother scolding her for returning when she'd been meant to stay with the twins. "Here," he went on rapidly, placing the kit's paw in Bomba's, "take him with you. I've got to go back for…"

"You _left _her?" Bombalurina snarled, pulling the kit none-too-gently towards her so that he let out a squeaky growl in protest.

"I had to…" Mack began to explain, then changed his mind. "Look, Bomba, there's no time now, I've got to…" Just then, he noticed two more felines coming up behind the scarlet queen. "And _you _two here?" MacVitie cried, exasperated. "What happened to the three of you escaping while—"

"I didn't think you two could manage on your own," Bombalurina informed him. "And it seems I was right. As for _those _two," she jerked her head aside to indicate Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, "they wouldn't hear of going on without me."

"Th'more we look about, th'more it seems yer right," Mungojerrie said quickly, grinning sheepishly at MacVitie, hoping to stop him scolding. "The place really _is_ deser'ed."

"Not completely," Mack informed them all. "A few queens and kits… Jezza." The twins shifted nervously. "I take it you know her?"

"It's, er…a good fing we 'appen'd t'come back an' 'elp," Teazer said, trying to force confidence into her voice.

"Enough talk," Bomba snapped, "I'm going to find my sister. Here," she added, shoving Carbuckety into Teazer's arms, _"you_ can guard little-bit…"

"I wanna _help," _Teazer protested, at the same time patting the younger kit awkwardly on the head to try and quiet him. He was thoroughly weary of all of these bigger cats and their pushing him around.

"The best way you _can _help," MacVitie rushed to tell the tabby queen, "is to look after him. Demeter won't go anywhere without him, so it's no good our rescuing her if anything happens to him. Please?"

"All righ'," Teazer sighed. "But on'y 'cause he's so cute. And cos _yew _ask me," she added, sending a glare in Bomba's direction, "not Miss Boss Lady over there."

"No matter _who _you do it for," Bomba rolled her eyes, "as long as you manage to keep him alive." She moved off in the direction from which MacVitie had just come. Jerrie looked uncertainly at Teazer and MacVitie for a moment, before hurrying to follow. MacVitie lingered a moment more.

"Do you know anywhere you can hide until we get back?" he asked.

"Oh, sure, sure," the tabby queen giggled nervously. "There's a nice ol' storage room a little ways up fr'm here. Jus' come an' fetch us when ev'ry'un's square. It'll be the first door on yer left. Now hurry up, the others'll need ya. That…" She swallowed. "Mind, that Jezza's a feisty one. She c'n do just as she likes when Lady Mother's gone, an' she'll take full advantage. Don't, er… That is, try not ta… Wot I mean is… Only fight 'er if'n ya really needs to."

"All right, all right, I get it," MacVitie chuckled, feigning carelessness to hide his real worry. He reached out and ruffled the younger queen's ears as if that were meant to reassure her. "Now go do _your_ job and let me do mine." As they both turned to go their separate ways, he somehow felt the need to add, "In less than an hour we'll be on our way to your new home. There's nothing to worry about, Teazer, nothing at all."


	17. Chapter 17

_Spring_

"Teazer? Oi, Teazer!"

The tabby queen groaned, opened her eyes, and sat up. She looked around for a moment, puzzled, until at last she recalled that she was in her own den where she belonged. _Still ain't got quite used to th'new digs yet… _

"Wot d'yew _want?" _she complained, turning to glare at her brother, who'd woken her. "I was just 'avin' such a nice sleep…"

"Didn't exac'ly _sound _like it," Mungojerrie contradicted.

"Are yew about to 'cuse _me _o' snorin'?" Rumpelteazer demanded. "I don' snore, _yew _do!"

"No, no, not at all," Jerrie said quickly. "Wot I mean is, yew were, ahm… talkin' in yer sleep."

"Oh." She feigned indifference. "Wot of it?"

"Yew still 'avin' the nightmares?" her twin asked in a softer tone.

"Wot nightmares?" Teazer yawned.

"Yew don't _'ave _t' talk about it," Jerrie shrugged. "Jus' thought I'd ask."

"One o'them ol' lady queens said fer yew to ask, didn' she? _Didn't _she? Wos it Miss Jelly? They fink I'm crazy er somefin'…"

"No'un finks yer crazy, an' I thought to ask ya all on my _own_—just to be nice. But if yer gonna be like _that, _never mind. An' yew c'n find yer own breakfast too," he added, heading out of their den. Observing that Jerrie kept very obviously glancing back over his shoulder, Teazer gathered that—as usual—he didn't mean what he'd said, and followed along with her brother to do some hunting.

_Hunting, _not burgling. Upon the twins' entering into the life of the Junkyard, Jennyanydots had volunteered herself and her mate, Skimbleshanks, as Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer's 'guardians,' despite their protests that they were plenty old enough to shift for themselves. (At least they'd been allowed their own den.) One of the first lessons Jenny had taken it upon herself to teach the tabby twins was that "there was food aplenty to be had" and "isn't it _wonderful_ that you've no need to go rifling through humans' things uninvited anymore!"

Teazer heaved a small sigh and glanced sidelong at her brother, who she knew would be thinking along the same lines. But he was determined to make a good impression on their newfound 'family' and follow their rules to the very letter, however much he might 'suffer' for it. Although they'd been here a few months now, Jerrie still held to a deepseated fear that _any_ wrong move might get them thrown out, despite Jenny's frequent reassuring speeches that "family don't abandon one another because of mistakes—they work _through _the difficulties together!" After all, hadn't Growltiger managed to get himself banished from the Jellicles? And look what had happened to _him_… _If Jerrie only knew where his sister took herself off to most nights while the rest of the Junkyard slept. _

"Well, wot's it t'be?" Jerrie asked, with forced enthusiasm. "Mice? Scraps?"

Before Teazer could begin her reply, she noticed Jennyanydots bustling over to them and suppressed an annoyed groan. Not that she disliked the kind, motherly queen, but was it necessary to _smother _them and treat them like babies?

"Morning, dearies," Jenny called cheerily. "I've brought your breakfast!" The plump tabby queen set a tray in front of the twins, containing an assortment of discarded leftovers she'd dug up from various piles, together with some kitty chow she'd brought back from her humans' house. (Bringing back food and the occasional odd item from one's _own _humans was not considered stealing—"what's mine is yours" and all that.) There were no mice: Jenny had an objection to killing mice herself, though she didn't stop others from doing so. It wasn't an _un_appetizing meal, but Teazer missed the…well, the _fresher _foods she and Jerrie had been accustomed to lifting from humans. _One _of these days they'd steal away and appropriate some decent food… Bring back something delicious to their Jellicle friends… Once they'd tasted it and realized what they were missing, surely the Jellicles would never again object to the twins' burgling humans' homes. Or perhaps they could get themselves adopted by a human family of their own—then it would only be _borrowing, _surely? What were a few bits and pieces between an owner and his pet—didn't humans call their pets their "best friends"? Perhaps some of the other cats with human families would help to back them up…

"Aww, fanks, Miz Jenny," said Jerrie—again in the overly-cheery tone.

"Yeah, fanks," Teazer echoed, trying to mimic his enthusiasm.

They paused. Jenny spread an old blanket on the ground in front of their den, moved the tray onto the blanket, sat herself down, and motioned for the twins to do the same. Clearly she meant to stay and have a chat with them whilst they ate. In other words, they'd better make sure to finish _every _single bite of their breakfast…

* * *

Rumpelteazer poked her brother repeatedly to make absolutely certain sure he was truly asleep. Finally, having reassured herself on that point, she tiptoed out of their den and began to make her way through the Junkyard. She knew Munkustrap or Alonzo would be patrolling about somewhere, perhaps even guarding the entrance. But she'd discovered on several separate occasions that, so long as she moved carefully, she was simply too stealthy for them—or their senses simply weren't _quite _as sharp as Growltigers' Henchcats' had been…well, it wasn't as if the Jellicles were accustomed to constant conflict. Perhaps it was a combination of both. But Teazer certainly felt like taking credit; after all, were not she and Mungojerrie the Masterliest of Master Burglars? The main thing to worry about was if Munkustrap or Alonzo _weren't _in a certain place, like the entrance, and if she on the contrary accidentally ran smack into them as they made the rounds. But this seemed to be the time each tom took a rest and stayed in one particular area. At least so far… And if she kept close to the junkpiles _so's to be able to dive into one and hide if need be… _

All at once, Rumpelteazer's ears flicked back, detecting what sounded suspiciously like the tread of small footpaws behind her—whoever-it-was was trying and failing to be as quiet and stealthy as she. Quickly, the tabby queen ducked behind an old washing machine. After waiting a moment, she risked a peek out. Standing a few feet away, and looking around in puzzlement, was one of the Jellicle kittens—one of those cream-and-ginger twins, about her age or a bit younger, though Teazer couldn't quite recall his name. She grinned at the tomkit's confusion. Apparently he was following her, but she wasn't fazed by it: he'd be easy enough to get rid of.

"Just wot d'yew fink _yer _doin' outta yer den at this hour?" she inquired, emerging from her hiding place. The tomkit jumped slightly, startled, and blushed at her words.

"Well, what are _you _doing?" he countered. "You're not supposed to be wandering alone at night any more than I am!"

"Never mind wot _I'm _doin', I'm on'y gettin' air, now who'd object t'that? An' I feels like bein' on me own, so jus' off yew pop an' leave me alone."

"Getting air? So are you collecting air in a _bag, _then?" the tom snickered, pointing in triumph at the empty pillowcase Teazer had forgotten to hide behind her back. Now it was Teazer's turn to blush.

"Look," she pleaded, "jus' go back to yer den an' pretend ya didn't see me. A'right? I'll…" She cast about wildly for an incentive. "I'll bring ya back somefin' real nice if you do! Whatcha fancy—food or shiny fings?"

"Ha," the tom shook his head stubbornly, "you can't get rid of me _that _easy. Take me with you, or I'm telling."

"But…" Teazer gulped in air, trying to keep from panicking. "But wot makes ya fink I'm goin' _anywhere?" _

"Heaviside, you're thick!" the tom chortled. "You just offered to bring me back something. How can you bring me back something from _nowhere?" _

Teazer's shoulders slumped as she realized her foolish blunder. She was caught. _Nothing to do but make the most of things. _"Listen," she resumed sternly, still trying to maintain some authority over the situation, "wot's yer name any'ow? I mean, which twin'r you?"

"You've been here _how _long _and_ you've got a twin too and _still_ haven't figured it out?" He rolled his eyes. "I'm Admetus."

"Righ'…A…Ad… Meetie… Look, Add-Me, if yer comin' wif me you've gotta do exac'ly as I say, see? I knows the city streets an' yew don't. An' furthermore, everyfing you see's gotta stay top secret. Got that?" She shot Admetus what she hoped was a threatening enough glare.

Admetus yawned, unimpressed. "Sure, top secret."

Rumpelteazer raised an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. However, she said no more except a muttered "C'mon," and continued her way cautiously towards the Junkyard exit. Once or twice she hissed at him to tread more softly, to which he retorted that he _was _treading softly, quiet as a mouse. So she gave up trying to tell him and simply hoped no one else would hear his pawsteps, which to her sounded loud as if she had an elephant marching-band following her.

As she had expected, one of the protectors was keeping watch at the gates—Alonzo, she thought, squinting through the darkness. They had little difficulty making it past him, though he did jump once and look round, probably because of Admetus' lack of stealth. Keeping to the shadows, they avoided his gaze, gradually slinking father and father away from the safety of the 'yard into the city.

They crept along silently (apart from what Teazer considered Admetus's "impossibly loud" pawsteps) for some time. At last, after they had passed several rows of humans' homes without stopping, Admetus piped up in a loud whisper: "Well, which one's it going to be then?"

"Eh?" Rumpelteazer pulled up short, puzzled. "Wot d'yew mean 'which one'?"

"Which house are we going to burgle? That's your thing, right? – Yours and your brother's. Don't pretend everyone in the 'yard doesn't know your favourite pastime. You're _meant_ to have given it up, but…" He trailed off, watching her with a mischievous grin to see if she'd deny it.

"Oh…oh, yeah," Teazer stammered, recovering (though, she feared, too late), seeing a chance to let Admetus believe her nighttime doings were something completely different to what they actually were. "Just…jus' can't seem t'give up the thievin' ways. You've caught me."

Admetus's grin faded. "You admitted that far too quickly," he accused. "Thieving…that _can't _be it, or at least not the _only _thing… What do you _really _do out here?" The tabby queen didn't answer immediately. Admetus cocked an eyebrow and acted as if he would head back to the Junkyard. "Well, guess I'd better inform Munkustrap of your unaccountable ventures out of the Junkyard at night…"

"Wait!" Teazer hissed, putting a paw on his arm to stop him. It was useless—she'd missed her single opportunity to get out of letting him in on her secret. "If'n you'll keep followin' me, you'll soon see fer yourself. C'mon." She continued making her way down the deserted street.

Admetus followed, frowning suspiciously. "Fine. But if you're fooling me, I _promise_ you I'll tell."

Teazer rolled her eyes. "Aye, so y've said. Say, ain't yew ashamed of yerself? I thought tattle-tellin' was fer babies. But no matter. I _ain't_ foolin' ya. An'," she added in a mutter that the younger tom had to strain to hear, "I can bet anyfin' you'll be more surprised than y've ever been in yer life."


	18. Chapter 18

_Demeter! _The ginger tom sat bolt-upright mid-scream. No…not _scream, _he realized gradually. There at the end of his dream he'd seemed to call her name aloud… But in reality, just as he awoke, it only came out as a hoarse whisper. _Which was just as well, _he reflected, glancing around and taking stock of his surroundings, recalling where he was and why. There was no need to fret over Demeter any longer—or Bombalurina, Munkustrap, the twins, his parents… Anyone else he cared about. They were quite safe—at least for the time being. And MacVitie remained far away from them, whereabouts unknown—_also for the best._

Suddenly, his ears detected a slight rustle outside his hiding place. Mack tensed, then slowly relaxed as he recognized the scent. _Well, _he thought wryly, _whereabouts unknown to _most _everyone… _Someone scratched three times at the scrap of old tin roof he used for a door. Heaving a sigh, Mack stood, moved to the tin scrap, and lifted it aside to admit—

"What's this?" he hissed, as Teazer entered his improvised den, pulling another feline in after her. "You promised to tell _no _one!" Quickly he replaced his door, then turned to glare on the pair, waiting for their explanation.

"MacVitie!" Admetus almost screeched, then blushed at the ridiculous sound of his own voice, still in the process of changing. He looked ready to tackle-hug Mack, but the older tom's wrathful glance soon changed his mind and Adme simply stood awkwardly, paws hanging limp at his sides. "I thought…I thought you were dead," he said simply.

MacVitie glanced from Admetus to Rumpelteazer and back again. "Good," he answered after a few moments' pause. "That was the _intention." _He turned again to the tabby queen. "Why did you bring him here, Teazer? I thought you understood—we agreed that the more cats knew, the more danger there'd be! And now here you come waltzing in with…"

"'E _foller'd _me, the li'l imp," Teazer interrupted, trying to hide her embarrassment that she wasn't as 'invisible' and 'sneaky' as she'd boasted in the past. "An' threat'n'd to tell the 'ole tribe! So 'ow could _I _help it? Eh?"

"Everyone just _stop _a few tics," Admetus growled over them both. "Vitie, you disappear—you let the others come back without you—you let everyone think you're dead… _Hang _it, Vitie, this is the first time I've seen eye or whisker of you in nearly a year—and all you can say in response is _'good'?"_

"There was nothing else I could do," said Mack impatiently, though he did have the good grace to look slightly remorseful. "I couldn't return—_can't _return until I know it's safe: safe for you, safe for my family, safe for everyone…"

"What are you _talking _about?" Adme interrupted. "What d'you mean, 'safe'? Growltiger's dead!" He looked at Teazer as if for confirmation. "Right? You told us so—you and Jerrie and the others were completely certain…"

MacVitie listened to the younger tom with increasing surprise, and looked questioningly at Teazer, who held up her paws as if to ward off both toms. "Wot's ev'ry'un starin' at?" she demanded. "Yeah, ol' Tiger's gone. O' _course_ that's all Adme knows; it's all _any'un_ in the 'yard knows. I've not told anythin' else—contrary t'what yew might be thinkin', Mackavee, I _do _keep my word! I said I'd tell _no _one, an' I—"

"All right, all right," Mack sighed, sitting down on an old moulding mattress. Not knowing what else to do, the other two followed suit.

"So there _is _more?" Admetus resumed. "You'd best explain quick, the pair of you, or whichever one can explain the best, because if you don't explain I'm dragging you _both _back to Munkustrap and telling _everyone _you've been conspiring together about something. Vitie, so far nothing you've said gives any good reason for you to be out here on your own! You'd better start making sense and _quick_."

Mack couldn't resist cracking a slight grin in spite of himself, at Adme's vehemence. The last clear memory he had of the ginger-and-cream tom was him as a small kit, nearly in tears because of a trick of his and Plato's that'd gone all wrong…

Mack shook his head to clear it of these thoughts and concentrated on the matter at paw: how _much_ to tell Admetus. He glanced again at Teazer, who waved a paw dismissively. "All yers, Mack-a-thing. I'd get fings all muddled." Doubtless she was afraid of inadvertently telling something MacVitie wanted kept secret. And yet if he said too _little_, Adme wouldn't be satisfied and would march straight back to Munkustrap and… Mack rubbed wearily at his temples, trying to think. How if he simply told everything?...Or, _most _everything? No matter what, he'd end up having to persuade Admetus against enlisting the Jellicles' help… He'd have to make him understand…

Admetus watched the older tom expectantly. "And no half-truths and concealments," he added, as if reading the other two felines' thoughts.

"Fine," Mack murmured, shrugging his shoulders. "Just remember, Adme, you asked for it."

"You're not scaring me out of hearing it," Admetus rolled his eyes. "So go on. Dish."

MacVitie scrunched his eyes shut, reluctant to relive the memories. Teazer shifted uncomfortably, but what could she do? If _she _shared, she'd end up telling every single detail she could remember—lying outright was not her strong suit, and she couldn't very well discern what facts to include and what to omit. She _had _to leave it to MacVitie…only she hoped he wouldn't topple over from the strain… "Mackey…if ya…d'ye want _me _to…"

"No," Mack interrupted, opening his eyes and commanding himself to 'get a grip.' "No, it's all right." It _was_ all right now, wasn't it? Everyone was alive, it was all over… Well, not _entirely_… Still, he should be able to relate a sequence of events without having some kind of a fit! He started in on the story, speaking as quickly as possible to get it over and done with. "You're right, Adme, Growltiger's dead. He was apparently drowned. This…well, group of strange cats appeared, we don't know where they came from. But evidently they all had some sort of vendetta against the Tiger and took it upon themselves to be rid of him once and for all. Mind, this is only hearsay, but it seems they took him out on his own boat and tossed him into the river." He paused.

"So?" Admetus prompted. "As far as I'm concerned, they're heroes, whoever they are. He deserved all that and _then_ some, right? What was the matter, then, once he was gone? You could all get away, no problem, couldn't you?"

"We were already in the process of escaping whilst all that was going on," Mack resumed. "Only… We had to save Carbuckety. You know Carbuckety?"

"Sure," Admetus laughed, "funny little tyke, Bucky. Follows Munkustrap around everywhere…well, _he_ follows Tumblebrutus and _Tumble_ follows Munkus. Doesn't seem any the worse for being an orphan and spending the first bit of his kittenhood with a bunch of evil madcats." So, the Jellicles hadn't been told _whose_ kit Carbuckety was. Just as well. Indeed, even Mack, Bomba, Demeter, and the twins hadn't discussed it amongst themselves. But Mack was certain he knew _without_ being told…it was the only logical answer…why else would Demeter have been so insistent on going back for him…

"Yes, him," MacVitie nodded.

"We couldn' leave the pore fing there," Teazer put in, "just 'cos 'is folks was 'enchies…"

"But then…" Admetus frowned as something occurred to him. "Were there anymore kits? Why didn't you get _them _out?"

"If on'y we could've," Teazer nodded sadly, "bu'…'twas 'ard enough rescuin' _one_ kit…"

MacVitie hurried on, afraid of Teazer's saying too much, "It was no easy matter getting him out… The kits are always left in the charge of a group of henchqueens. Bomba, Demeter, and I… Got into…a squabble with them." He gulped, hurrying on, "In the middle of it, Griddlebone returned—she's…" He nodded at Teazer.

"Me an' Jerrie's mum," Teazer supplied, "at least she always led us to believe so. Not a very _nice_ lady, mind. She's more er less in charge o' the queens an' kits."

"And apparently in league with the cats who killed Growltiger," MacVitie went on. "At least, if she wasn't in league with them to begin with, she managed to strike a bargain with them. A few of them, the leaders I imagine, entered the kittens' play area along with her. That gave the queens we were fighting pause, and we managed to escape amidst the confusion. The others made it back to the Junkyard." He shrugged. "Not much more to it than that."

"All right, so what are _you _still doing away from the 'yard?" Admetus demanded.

Again, MacVitie glanced at Rumpelteazer, rather uneasily this time. Teazer let out a small, irritated hiss. Mack was not much better at lying, or even omitting events, than she was, the queen reflected. And his "shifty-eyed" manner of continually shooting her strange glances would only serve to make Admetus more suspicious. "Mackee," she said aloud, "if'n you'd rather I finish the story fer ya, jus' _say_ so! I don' mind—but I can't understan' wot ya wants jus' by those odd faces yer pullin'. There's no shame in 'avin' trouble sharin' upsetting stories, so y've no need t'keep tryin' t'give me 'ints. An' besides we've nothin' to 'ide fr'm Adme er any'un else, righ'?"

"Sure," Adme snorted in disbelief. "You two must think I'm thicker and slower than an old tub of molasses. 'You were to tell _no _one!' Nothing to hide, my eye!"

"Yes, I wanted to hide my location," Mack said cautiously, "but only temporarily…until…"

"Until it was safe?" Admetus shook his head impatiently. "You keep _saying _that! But you've not said what you mean! How can we be unsafe now our worst enemy's gone?"

"B'cause," Teazer answered, "just so soon's we got ridda _one _enemy, another rose in's place."

"You can't mean that… that Griddle cat you mentioned a moment ago?" Admetus let out a derisive laugh. "What in Heaviside should we have to worry about from _her?" _

"Mind yerself," murmured Teazer, "she's clever, sly, an' a mighty gargantuan of a queen—not very much smaller than our Ole D. An' younger'n him. An', worst for us, vengeful. She don't ferget wrongs done 'er—ever."

"Fine, suppose she _is_ as bad as you say," Admetus shrugged, "what's that got to do with _us?_ True, perhaps the cats around the city should be warned not to cross her—Skimble will want to be cautious when going out to work on his trains and whatnot—but what sort of a worry is she to the Jellicles on the whole? _We've_ not done anything to upset her. Right?"

"She…" Teazer gulped. "Well, she cert'nly ain'… ain' too 'appy 'bout me an' Jerrie flyin' the coop… Not t'mention carryin' off kits as she consider'd rightfully hers… An' beatin' up on the troops a bit…"

"And _that's_ enough to set her on the warpath against the Jellicles?" Admetus cocked an eyebrow skeptically.

"Toldya she was vengeful," Teazer shrugged.

"So why's that mean Vitie needs to live out here on his own like some sort of exile?" Admetus demanded. "That still makes no sense!"

"T'keep watch, nat'rally," Teazer said, a little too quickly.

"I'm trying to find out their plan," added MacVitie. "They're a bit disorganized at the moment, what with figuring out who's in charge and adapting a whole slew of new cats at once into the routine of their gang…but once they settle down, I know Griddle will carry on—first with whatever Growltiger had planned for the humans, perhaps in an even worse form, but some time or other the Jellicles will become a priority again. And I don't believe for a _minute _she'll simply retrieve Jerrie and Teazer and leave the rest of us alone…"

"Nah, yew c'n bet she'll try an' turn other Jellicles to 'er side…an' those as refuse…well… Not t'speak ill o' the dead, but Lady Mother allus _was_ the more clevah one… Often enough she wos th' brains be'ind the Tiger's operations… Can't say's I like it so much meself," concluded Teazer, "but Mack volunteer'd t' keep watch an' he's rather a stubborn one, yer friend is." She glanced sideways at Mack as if shooting him a hint.

Admetus looked from one to the other, shaking his head incredulously. "You two are either keeping something back…or are a couple of imbeciles. I rather think it's the former: I know MacVitie, at any rate, has more sense." He glared in MacVitie's direction. "At least you _used _to."

"Oh? And what's _your _brilliant plan that's so much better?" Mack challenged.

"Enough with the ridiculous secrecy, for starters!" Admetus responded without missing a beat. "If there's potential danger to the Jellicles, the rest of us deserve to know! We need to be prepared for…"

"Fer a fight?" Teazer interrupted. "But, see, Adme, if'n Mackievee c'n learn their plan an' we stop it b'fore it starts, there won't be no _need _fer fightin'."

"Supposing he _can _find it out," Admetus rolled his eyes. "Is _that _what we're counting on?—And all this after you've _just_ been explaining how evil and clever this Gridiron queen is? Even supposing we stick to the 'keep watch and find out their plan' scheme, you shouldn't be the _only_ one keeping watch, Vitie! Tell the situation to Munkustrap! We'll all take it in turns to keep watch, meanwhile—"

"First of all," MacVitie cut him off, "there's no _we. _Second of all, I refuse to risk the others—"

"It's _not _your decision to make for them," Admetus interrupted in his turn, barely controlling his frustration. "Or for me. And there is _so _a 'we.' Have you taken a good look at me recently? Do you _realize_ how long you've been away? What d'you think the rest of us have been doing in the meanwhile—twiddling our paws? Yes, I can see that's what you think. Well, I'll enlighten you." He stopped momentarily to catch his breath before proceeding. "First off, we've been growing up. The only _babies _left in the Tribe are Alonzo's kits and the one _you_ brought us." He paused again, then added thoughtfully, "Even Tumble's not such a baby any more. Anyway—secondly, we've been gearing up for just such an occasion." MacVitie stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Come _on," _Adme growled, "with several Jellicles held prisoner in a rival gang, what did you _think _Munkus would spend his time doing? He's been training us for months—anyone of reasonable age and strength. Lately Alonzo's even been giving him pointers based on what he saw among the Tiger's crew. We've _not _been idle, I assure you."

MacVitie stared agape at the younger tom (who seemed not nearly so 'young' now), and slowly turned towards Teazer as if for confirmation.

"'Tis true, Vitie," shrugged the tabby queen, weary of all the arguing. "Fact is, I've been takin' advantage o' Lonzi's 'elpful fighting 'ints meself. Useful fer everyday self-defense, an' if there _were _to be any sort o' … Battle… Mind, I'm not sayin' there _will _be… Knowin' these skills'll come in awful 'andy."

"Right…" MacVitie shook his head. "So perhaps you all _have_ been preparing…of course, Munkus _would _see to that… That's all well and good, but my aim is to see to it you won't _need _those skills and preparations."

"And you _still _say the best way of going about that is sitting out here all by your onesie and 'keeping an eye on things?'" Admetus demanded. "Suppose you _miss_ something—eh? Suppose Griddlebone acts completely opposite to what you expect and goes completely over your head? Then not only will she catch _you _unprepared, but the rest of the Jellicles as well, because no-one will have been aware of the henches' goings-on but you, and it'll turn out you _weren't _so aware after all, meaning you'll not have warned anyone in time. _Then_ we'll end up fighting the henches anyway, and maybe even being killed, and it will be on _you _for trying to handle the entire situation yourself." He folded his arms and glared at MacVitie, who stubbornly returned his gaze. The older tom didn't answer anything—what _could _he answer, Admetus thought rather triumphantly, to such irrefutable reasoning? And yet the ginger tom still showed no signs of actually yielding. Admetus shifted his gaze from MacVitie to Rumpelteazer and back again. "Look," he resumed, "you two do as you please. _I've _a mind to tell Munkustrap everything and let _him _talk some sense into you."

In a trice, MacVitie had jumped up and stood between Admetus and the door. "No!" he practically snarled. "Teazer, you won't let him do any such thing!"

"No, no, don't put _me _in the middle o' this," the tabby queen squeaked.

"As if she or anyone else can stop me doing what I want," Admetus snorted. "Anyway, you're _already _in the middle of it. Don't be ridiculous, Teazer." He shook his head wearily. "Vitie, you know how I've always looked up to you and admired you." He flushed, looking disgusted at himself for letting such sentimental words escape him. "But you're _clearly_ not thinking straight at the moment. There's something else going on here, search _me _if I've any idea what, but whatever it is, you're letting it skew your thought processes and decision-making. You're on the verge of compromising _everyone!_ I can't let that happen, can't you _see_ that? Or have you gone so crazy that you _can't _see that?"

MacVitie stared mutely at Admetus for a few more moments, before heaving a weary sigh and throwing up his paws in resignation. "Fine. Tell Munk to meet me by the café."

Admetus gaped at him, seeming taken aback that he had actually carried his point. "I—you—What?"

"I'll _talk_ to him," Mack growled, "by the café. He'll know which one I mean. Now get gone and tell him before I change my mind." He added, as an afterthought, "But at least have the good sense to wait until dawn! If he isn't already up and patrolling, that is." Of _course _he'd be up and patrolling already. He'd probably been patrolling all night.

Admetus backed out of the den, still staring in confusion—and some suspicion—at MacVitie. No doubt he thought the ginger tom planned to make a run for it or some such notion.

Rumpelteazer had not stirred from her spot. "Vitie…?" she asked uncertainly.

"It was the _only_ way to get rid of him," groaned MacVitie. "Heaviside _knows_ what I'll say to Munkustrap, but I'll think of something…"

"An' yet," Teazer ventured, "yew _could _jus' tell'im the truf. Adme _does _'ave a point…"

"That he does, my dear," responded a voice, coming from the door Admetus had just left through. The tabby queen spun around, openmouthed with shock. She had recognized the voice instantly, but still could scarce believe it when she saw who stood there, grasping a struggling Admetus by the arms and the scruff of the neck. The intruder grinned at Teazer, who still stood gaping silently. "Well? Nothing to say, then, dearie?"

"Griddlebone," MacVitie hissed, "he was _not _part of the…"

"Not _my _fault he decided to follow her, _is_ it, eh?"

"Mackey," Teazer whispered, forcing the words out despite her deep-seated self-preservative habitual instinct to remain silent in the presence of 'the Lady Mother,' "wot…wot's goin' on?"

"I'll _tell _you what's going on," snarled Admetus, still fighting uselessly against the gargantuan Persian queen, "he's handing us over to the enemy! Oh, I _know," _he went on as MacVitie opened his mouth to object, "I'm sure you had no choice, she threatened you and all that. But it's all your own stupid fault! I _knew _something like this would happen, but I didn't realize it already _had _happened! You thought you could manage on your own and you miscalculated and now the rest of us will pay for it. I'll never forgive you, MacVitie. _Never." _

"There, that's enough outta _you," _Griddlebone snarled, though truthfully she'd been very entertained by the young tom's 'speech.' She made no attempt to put her paw over his mouth or otherwise physically silence him, because among the henches she was an intimidating-enough personage that a mere verbal command would do.

Admetus, being unacquainted with the queen except by hearsay, was _not_ so wise to her ways. Seeing he was on the verge of being kitnapped, he saw no reason why she should harm him just now. Nor did it occur to him that there were ample ways of hurting someone _without_ doing any serious harm. And being unable to move, the only outlet for his growing anger was words. "Oh, _bite _me, Miz Fluff," he sneered, ignoring the faces and gestures Teazer was pulling to try and give him a hint to be quiet.

"If you say so," shrugged Griddlebone, chomping down hard on Adme's ear and surprising a loud yelp out of him. After that, though, he was silent, concentrating on trying not to show his hurt and humiliation.

"Griddlebone…" MacVitie began again, shaking in fury at being utterly helpless to do anything.

"You know the terms," Griddlebone interrupted in a dangerously-calm tone. "There'll be no re-negotiating. You'll only make matters worse for your little friends by speaking up again. I shall see you in a few days…or then again, perhaps not. That I leave entirely up to you and your…family." She secured her grip on Admetus and turned to go, jerking her head to indicate that Rumpelteazer should follow.

"Vitie…" Teazer mumbled feebly, in a last useless appeal for his help.

MacVitie looked away from her, and with that one gesture all Teazer's hopes dwindled to nothing. After a few happy weeks of freedom and safety and a new family, she was once again slave to the queen who had domineered almost the entirety of her short existence.

And this time she felt certain there would be no escape.


	19. Chapter 19

What could he do now? Where could he go?

_Not to the Junkyard, that's for certain. _

If he went there, Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy would manage to get the whole story out of him. Or Coricopat and Tantomile would know instantly just by looking at him, if they didn't already. And there was no way Munk would simply stand by and let the henches carry out their plans—not even to save Teazer…and now Admetus too. No, Munkustrap, ever the hero, would _insist _there was a way to stop the henches _and _save the hostages. But there wasn't; one wrong move and they'd be killed before any Jellicle had a chance to get to them, Griddlebone had assured him of that…

Not that he believed all Griddlebone had said, or even _most _of it. But she'd caught him at a disadvantage: he'd had no choice but to go along with it… She'd discovered his hiding place, had it guarded to keep him from getting out to warn anyone, and simply waited for Teazer to show up. He'd figured he could get Teazer back easily enough, or she herself would be clever enough to escape again; but now there was Teazer _and _Admetus. He didn't for a moment believe Griddlebone would actually willingly release his friends even after her plans were carried out, either, but he'd attend to that later. Surely she'd be kept good and distracted for some time once…once they… No, he'd not even think of it. He had no fondness for humans nor never had, but it sickened him to think of the shock and pain his father would experience when he heard that so many humans had been done away with in one single blow.

And what all the Jellicles would think of MacVitie when they found out he hadn't tried to stop it.

Stubbing his footpaw against what felt like brick, he looked up wearily to see where his paws had carried him—he had not been paying the least attention, except to avoid the Junkyard at all costs.

He stared at the structure he'd bumped into, at first too dazed to recognize it. It seemed to be the front step of some human's flat…front step, front door, with a kitty door cut into it… Blinking and doing a double-take, he realized he did know which flat this was. The kitty door could have been just any kitty door, except for the funny shape—Bella said it was called a "P"—monogrammed onto it. From the handful of times he'd visited, he realized that it was his mother's flat—or, rather, her humans' flat. The "P," his mother had explained once, stood for "Princess," the pet name her humans had given her. But what had made him come here?

Then again, perhaps it made sense. At his wits' end, unable to go home, unable to consult with his father or brothers, what was left to do but mope around alone…or find the one member of his family who might feel just as lost as he? He hadn't exactly thought of that as he was walking along, but his paws must have instinctively carried him here…of course, she might not even _be _here…

"Vitie?" whispered a voice he recognized—though it came, not from the kitty door, but behind him.

"Mum."

Next thing he knew, they were seated together on the front stoop, he leaning slightly against her shoulder, she occasionally giving his paw an awkward pat. She had never been the sort of mother to gather her kittens into her lap and cuddle them, and now that her youngest was as tall as she, it was a bit late for such things. Still, they sat quite near each other for comfort, and for a rare moment he felt he was really confiding in his own mother, not a wellmeaning nanny who never quite knew what to do with her young charge. He explained, as far as he could, the terrible time he had had among the Henchcats, and even after escaping. And though he used no names and few details, he felt he was telling her more than he'd ever told anyone—even Munkustrap.

"Mum, when we were escaping, I…I fought someone, and—and hurt them…wounded them terribly. I'm not certain, but I think…they may have died." Again Jezza's bloodied face came unbidden to his mind's eye, and again he wondered what had got into him. But again he wondered if he had had any choice? "I didn't _want_ to, but they were endangering my friends—what could I do?" He watched Bella's face as he spoke. She looked startled and pained, but not nearly as shocked or horrified as he had expected. _Not the way Demeter had looked at him when he'd last seen her…_ "And now," he went on hastily, as if ripping off a bandage, "I know about…something, but if I speak of it somecats will be killed. On the other paw, if I _don't _speak of it, others might be killed." He groaned. "I've made an utter shambles of everything. Whenever I try to help anyone, I only make matters worse. I should have listened to you that night when…" But he trailed off, fearing that was much too near naming names.

"I don't know who you mean or what's happened, but I can pretty nearly guess," Bella sighed. "Are you certain your father and brothers can't help you?" She said 'help' as if he simply needed someone to join him in lifting some heavy object or sweeping a floor.

"Mum, don't you understand?" MacVitie tried to conceal his exasperation. "I _can't _go back to the Junkyard. Not now—perhaps not _ever." _A sudden, mad idea occurred to him. "But—but _you _can! Perhaps I can give you a…a hint of some sort, so long as I don't tell you what it's about, and you could pass it on to Dad and Munkustrap…" Already he was regretting saying this at all. Who knew but that Griddlebone was having him followed everywhere?

But it made no odds. From her horrified expression, it was clear that Bella would not agree to any such idea. "I? Vitie—it's impossible! I can't go back to the Junkyard! I haven't been back there since…since…that night…"

He frowned. "D'you mean—can it possibly be that…you _still _feel the same way you did when Bombalurina spoke with you? That was _months _ago, Mum!"

Her eyes took on a slightly glazed look as she tried to recall what he was referring to. Remembering, she gasped. "Did she—did she tell you—what I said?"

"She said she couldn't understand anything you were talking about," MacVitie replied evasively. Bella looked relieved. "But what _were _you talking about?" he asked recklessly, tired of her secrecy. "And _why _do you still feel unable to return to the Junkyard?" Although he had _some _idea from his conversations with the henchcats and with Munkustrap, all of that was in the past. It did _not _explain her present difficulty, whatever it was, which he felt was somehow behind this entire mess! Or perhaps that was only his wishful thinking, hoping to place the blame on others or on circumstances instead of admitting that he himself had caused the situation.

He looked expectantly at his mother, but her only response was to burst into tears. "Mum…please…" He sighed. Please _what? _What made him think she could discuss this rationally? She'd _never_ been rational about things… He'd always felt, somehow, that he and his brothers were raising their mother instead of the other way around. Like she was some tiny porcelain doll that one must be careful not to break.

But no—that wasn't fair, he chided himself. Hadn't she gone to great lengths to protect him? Hadn't she gone along with Growltiger for MacVitie and his brothers' sakes?

"Mum," he tried a new tack, "you know I love you, will always love you, no matter what—don't you?"

He waited. The silence stretched between them, broken only by Bella's loud sniffs as she tried to get ahold of herself. _There's no time for this, _thought MacVitie, his impatience to get something done winning out over his desire to be sensitive.

"Mum," he sighed at last, "I know about…about you and…Griddlebone…and the Glamour Cats." That got her attention. She stiffened, and turned to look at him. Again, however, her expression was not as horrified as he'd imagined and expected. "And I don't care," he went on doggedly. "Whatever you had to do in the past…is in the past. No one has any right to hold it over you now. And if anyone has tried…I'll…" It occurred to him that someone _had _tried: Growltiger. Somehow he'd convinced Bella that the horrors of her past made her unworthy of remaining with the Jellicles. At least, he'd _attempted _to persuade her so—but was it more than that? Had someone from her _own _tribe accused her? His pelt prickled in anger. "And if it was someone from our own family who treated you so—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Vitie," she snapped. "You know your father would never allow anyone to behave that way towards another Jellicle. And…" The tears threatened to well up again. "…And throughout all the years he…he's continued to love me. Despite…everything."

"Of course he has," MacVitie took up her train of thought in what he hoped was an encouraging tone, "that's what he _does._ That's what _family _does. Accepts you and loves you, no matter what." He bit his lip, briefly worrying that his mother would take this opportunity to point out that, in that case, MacVitie should return as well.

Fortunately for him at the moment, Bella was still too wrapped up in her own worries to remember his. "Only he _doesn't _know everything. No more do you. No one does. If they did…"

"We're your _family,"_ Mack repeated, though he felt his heartrate increase, wondering what it was he 'didn't know.' Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be worse than what he had done. No doubt she was magnifying something from her past, convincing herself it was unforgivable when in fact…

"I…I killed them," Bella gasped.

MacVitie frowned, certain he had heard wrong, or that his mother was raving or exaggerating. "What?"

"Don't make me say it again," she pleaded, hiding her face in her paws.

"But how do you mean? Who—?"

"I don't mean that I _really_ did it…that is, I didn't succeed…but I as good as _tried. _I left them to starve or… Of course, I left them near the railway station, it was possible a human could have found them, but I…didn't hope for it…" She turned her tortured gaze on MacVitie. "Please understand…everything seemed so…dreadful, so strange and hopeless… And I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear for anyone to know that they…they were _his… _I didn't want anyone here to know, but nor could I simply leave them at my humans' home indefinitely, and what if somecat had discovered them and taken them to that awful place to become his—his henchmen—and… But then you kits found them…" She shook her head, unable to go on.

"You…you mean…Plato and Admetus," MacVitie whispered, everything piecing itself together in his mind. The realization he came to mattered much more to him at this moment than whether his mother had or had not 'meant to' starve them. Most likely even _she _didn't know. It was just another reason to accuse herself. One thing alone stood out to him above all else: The 'orphaned' kits he and his friends had found that day at the station…they were… "My brothers." It felt strange, saying the words out loud.

"Half-brothers," Bella corrected, barely-audible.

At that, Vitie stiffened. His pelt prickled in anger, as it occurred to him who the kits' father had been. He understood now, much more vividly than ever before, just how much and how long his mother had suffered because of _that…that…filthy… _But just as suddenly as the vengeful feelings began to take hold, they left him again. What was the use? Growltiger was dead. _By drowning, no less. He will never suffer as he rightfully should have done… _He shook his head to clear it. "Brothers," he fairly snarled, making his mother jump and look at him in surprise at his unexpected vehemence.

"Vitie…?"

"They're your sons, mum. My brothers. Munkustrap's brothers. Tugger's brothers." He put a paw to his forehead and groaned aloud. "And…I've just handed one of them over to…to _her." _

Bella drew in a sharp, quick breath. "What? What do you mean?"

Then MacVitie recalled that he hadn't exactly been very specific in his 'confession' to his mother. He'd told himself it was for fear of being overheard, but…who was he kidding? It was his shame at what he'd done, more than anything; he hadn't _wanted _to explain clearly—just as he hadn't been able to refer specifically to Jezza by name, to admit to himself and his mother that he had actually deliberately harmed a living, breathing feline. But what did it matter now? No matter what he said, Bella was convinced _she_ held the upper paw in this…this…competition of which-of-us-two-is the-most-terrible-undeserving-of-life-feline-on-the-planet. And suppose Griddlebone _did _hear—it would not be likely to influence her actions. No doubt she _wanted _Bella to know. He forced himself to say the words—unsugarcoated this time. "I let her take Admetus and Teazer—you know Teazer?—Because of me, Griddlebone has them," he said flatly.

For the first time in their conversation, he saw a flash of concern in Bella's eyes—concern for someone else, not her former cross between self-loathing and self-pity. "But how…?"

"Because I'm an idiot who thought he could outsmart The Persian, that's how. But never mind that, now. The question is, how do we get them back?"

A few moments of tense silence passed between them. Then, "You…you say Griddlebone has them," Bella said haltingly. "She…usually makes bargains. Did she not make a bargain with you? What was it you said before, about not mentioning—something? If you only keep your word, Griddlebone will keep _hers _and you'll soon be able to get the kits back. There!" She smiled at him, timidly, as if hoping he would tell her she'd just solved everything.

"But, mum…" MacVitie shook his head. "What she's going to do…I _can't _keep that to myself!"

_"Can't _you?" Bella stared into her son's eyes, more boldly this time. "Is what she has planned truly any of your concern? Will it bring any harm to you or those you care about?"

"Well…" MacVitie hesitated. If he understood correctly, Griddlebone and her newfound co-conspirators meant to somehow bring a good deal of harm to a good many humans. It was _so _tempting to shrug it off, to think, _"That has nothing to do with me or my family."_ And yet, Old Deuteronomy had asserted time and again that it was their duty to _protect _humans. If MacVitie allowed this, would his father ever forgive him? But then, could he choose the humans' lives _over _Teazer's and Admetus's? Surely this put things on an entirely different footing—Old Deuteronomy couldn't possibly expect him to sacrifice two kittens for the sake of humans! It went too far. Munkustrap, he knew, would declare, _I'll save _all _of them!, _and dash off to the rescue in a heartbeat if he found out. But surely he would only get himself—and all the humans _and _the kits—killed in the process! "Perhaps I _can," _Mack whispered finally.

Bella patted her son's paw comfortingly, as if following his line of thought. "You've no other choice," she said firmly.

"But," as another thought occurred to him, "how do I _know _Griddlebone will keep her word? What if I do nothing and the kits _still _die? And—and what if, even after she carries out her intentions, she doesn't leave us all alone?"

Bella shook her head. "Griddlebone keeps her bargains. She prides herself on it. Those who think they've been cheated, didn't pay careful attention to the _wording _of the bargain. I've experienced that myself." She shuddered. "If she has said the kits will live _and _be returned to you, then they will. _And _if she has said the kits will _die _if you interfere in her plan, rest assured they will. You _must _keep silent. It's the only way to save them."


	20. Chapter 20

Rumpelteazer made her way back to the Junkyard, holding Admetus firmly by the paw. MacVitie walked with them, sometimes at Teazer's side, sometimes lagging behind. _He _was meant to be returning _them _to safety, but it seemed to Teazer _she _was the one having to take the lead, meanwhile dragging two dazed and clueless toms along. She'd refused to return to the 'yard unless MacVitie went with them, so he'd had to agree. He was evidently lost in thought and scarcely knew where they were going. As for Admetus…he'd not spoken a word since they'd been dragged off by Griddlebone. He'd gone suddenly from being a petted and coddled darling in the Junkyard to being thrown about and treated like a bit of rubbish. Teazer was used to this sort of treatment; Adme was not. She hoped one day he would be all right—or as nearly so as possible.

As for the tabby queen, she refused to think too deeply of the past few days. Mack had got them back. Griddle had kept her word; perhaps now she would leave them alone. That was all that mattered. Now they could go on with their lives…couldn't they?

She peered up at MacVitie. What was _he_ thinking of now? Surely he didn't still intend to live like some rogue and go on spying on Griddlebone and her gang. There was no point now, was there? And anyway, he hadn't done a very good job the first time. Catching her eye, MacVitie tried to smile—failing miserably, he produced something more akin to a grimace.

_Neither of these toms had much experience of unhappiness_, Teazer reflected. Despite her young age, her life up until now had turned her mind old before its time—though in behavior she was still very much the silly kitten. How else could one forget misery except by making up for it in as much fun and mischief as possible? _They think they're miserable _now_…I've seen worse. _

Since MacVitie couldn't manage a smile, she managed one for him and gave what she hoped was an encouraging nod. He was worried, she knew, that his family wouldn't forgive him for all the things he felt were his fault. _She _was convinced they would. The question was, would he ever forgive _himself?_

The three young felines walked along so slowly, none of them overly anxious to reach the Junkyard and face the inevitable questioning of their fellow Jellicles, that the half-hour or hour journey seemed instead to take years. As they finally trudged through the front gates, Teazer's ears flitted back and forth as she glanced around apprehensively. Almost immediately she'd got the sense that something was very wrong here. She looked up at MacVitie to see if he'd noticed as well, but he still seemed very much in his own world. She'd had just about enough of _that._ Irritably, she tugged at his paw. "Macavee! Sommat's amiss!"

Snapped out of his reverie, Mack stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment before finally realizing what she'd said. Following her example, he looked around. "Where…where is everyone?"

"Hiding, no doubt," muttered Admetus, making the other two jump.

"So ye've _not _gone mute," Teazer feebly tried to joke. Admetus didn't smile.

"What d'you mean, hiding?" MacVitie asked.

"They're hiding," Adme repeated, speaking only to Teazer as if Mack were not even there, "because what else can you _do_ when one of your own tribe has consorted with the enemy and you no longer know if you can trust him?"

"Yew don't mean Mackee?" Rumpelteazer glared. "'E didn't _consort…" _

"Cooperate, then, if you like," Admetus snapped. "He caved. He did just what she wanted. He didn't even _try _to stop it."

"'E saved our _lives _is wot 'e did," Rumpel growled, almost ready to knock Adme's lights out though just a little while ago she'd wanted to hug and comfort him.

"And how about the _lives_ of whoever lived in that house?" Adme challenged.

"There wos no _choice _in the mattah," Teazer repeated. "Maybe _yew _are some high-up noble type wot'd rather die than live, but I ain't _that…"_

"Stop," interrupted MacVitie, who until now had only stood, stunned and silent, listening to the two younger cats argue. Both stopped arguing, and Teazer turned towards Mack, but Adme still refused to acknowledge his presence. "Admetus is right. D'you think I don't _know _this is all my doing? I couldn't let anything happen to you two, but you wouldn't have been in that situation to _begin_ with if it weren't for me. I'm to blame. Hate me all you like, Adme—you can't possibly hate me more than I hate myself. Tell the others what I've done. Get me banished from the Tribe." _Just like Growltiger. Your father. My mum's one-time mate. _ "I don't care two straws what happens to me. But for now we've got to find out what's happening here." His heart pounded as he looked all round. Had Griddlebone fooled him once again? Whilst he was retrieving Admetus and Rumpelteazer, had Griddlebone's henchmen come here and…? He thought of what his mother had said and tried to remember the _exact _wording of his "bargain" with Griddlebone, but it was all so blurred and jumbled…

Teazer tugged on his paw again. "Don' go all glazy-eyed again, Mac-thing. 'Ere's som'un comin'!" Fearing neither MacVitie nor Admetus would take the initiative, she bounded towards the other cat she'd spotted. "Tuggah!" she exclaimed, "wot's to do?"

Tugger, for it _was _he (Teazer may not have learnt _everyone's _names perfectly yet, but _his_ was one impossible to forget), looked up with a start, as if she'd interrupted him in the midst of some deep thought. For the moment, her irritation only increased. _"Anothah_ glazy-eyed tom!" she exclaimed, unable to refrain from speaking her frustrations aloud. "Wot's _wif _all yew useless glazy-eyed cats? Can't yew'uns do _anyfin' _but mope about feelin' sorry for yerselves?"

"Who're _you?"_ was Tugger's only response, as he continued to stare blankly at Teazer. This only served to stoke the fire.

"An' yew _might _just bothah learnin' yer fella Tribe-membahs' _names _onc't in awhile!" she fairly screeched.

By this time, MacVitie and Admetus had caught up to her. "What is it?" Mack demanded. He looked toward his brother. "Tugger, what's been—" Completely caught off-guard, within a matter of seconds MacVitie found himself on his back, doing his best to ward off the blows of his brother, who sat on top of him and seemed to be more or less attempting to claw Mack's face off.

Teazer had seen the look of Tugger's countenance change the instant he saw MacVitie, but she'd not been able to move quickly enough to prevent him knocking the younger tom down—nor was it likely she _could _have overpowered the much-larger feline even if she _had _moved quickly enough. Now she pulled and yanked at any bit of Tugger's limbs she could reach, though it was mostly useless. "Tuggah! Tuggah, stoppit, yew wanna _kill_'im er wot?" she exclaimed. "Don' jus' _stan'_ there, Adme, 'elp me!" At first, Admetus merely stared contemptuously at the three scuffling cats. Finally—only after allowing Tugger to get in several good scratches—he joined Teazer in her efforts to separate the brothers, and between the two of them they somehow managed to drag Tugger off of MacVitie. Probably more because Tugger had worn out his rage than because the two of them combined were any match for him.

Gingerly, Mack got to his feet, wiping blood from his cheek. He stared at the splash of red on his paw, as if unable to comprehend where it had come from.

Having ensured that Tugger wasn't about to attack again, Teazer darted to Mack's side. "Yew a'right?" Uncertainly, she reached a paw up toward his face. "Yew, er, gotta li'l somefin there…migh' oughtta go an' see Miz Jenny er Jelly…"

"I'm fine," MacVitie mumbled, stepping away from the tabby queen. He bent his concentration on letting none of the other three see how much the attack had shaken him. He and his eldest brother had never got on so well, of course, and had always taken opportunities—when Munkustrap happened to be out of sight—to rough one another up a bit. But never like _this. _This time, it seemed as if Tugger had meant to maim, seriously injure, or even… And the only thing keeping Mack from jumping on him in return was the knowledge that he, Mack, _deserved_ all of this and far worse. Still, that didn't explain Tugger's behavior…unless he _knew… _

"Jenny? Jelly?" Tugger barked a humorless laugh. _"They'll_ have their paws full for the foreseeable future. As for where _he _ought to go…" His paw clenched into a fist at his side. Admetus was gazing intently up at the older tom.

"You _know, _then?" the cream-and-ginger tomkit demanded. "You know what he—?"

"Know?" Tugger mimicked. "If you mean do I know that _that_ worthless piece of dung just missed _murdering _us…"

_"What?" _MacVitie gaped at his brother in disbelief, too shocked to move.

"Yer gonna stan' there an' let yer own brovvah _say_ such a fing?" Teazer hissed, walking straight up to Tugger and seizing him by the shoulder fur—which, granted, she had to stand on tip-paw to reach, and so looked more comical than intimidating. Still, Tugger was unused to such violent treatment, and was rather taken aback by it. "Look'ere, yew! Wotevah yew fink yew saw, er wotevah some lowlife toldja, alls Mackee did was necessary to save me'n Adme's lives. Grid—the Lady had us an' if Mack 'adn't done wot she said, we'd be _dead!"_ She thrust one of her paws under his nose, holding up one of Admetus's as well—until the younger kit jerked his paw away angrily. "Look! She stahted by lettin' 'er 'enchcats yank our claws out one by one." It hadn't been the first time Teazer had experienced this punishment. Her left paw now had only one claw remaining. "Yew ever 'ad some'un do _that _t'yew? No, I daresay not. _Yew _look to've been mollycoddled by 'umans yer'ole life." She glanced at Admetus, who had now sunk down to the floor, his paws over his head as if hiding from the remembrances of what had happened. "It ain't pleasant—_is _it, Adme?"

"Stop. Stop it," sobbed the young tom. _Good. This reaction was better than the anger and bitterness. He might yet recover. _

"She didn't leave off until Mack did as she said," Teazer went on, turning back to Tugger. "It's regrettable an' no mistake, but we c'n 'ope the 'umans escaped in time. They're smaht creatures. An'…"

"Humans?" Tugger interrupted. "Then you _don't _really know what he's done!"

MacVitie's heartrate increased. "Wh-what do you mean? What are you talking about? It _was _a humans' flat, and—"

"Don't play the fool!" Tugger snarled. "You know perfectly well whose flat it was!"

"But I've never—" Blinking, for the first time since arriving back at the Junkyard Mack took a closer look at his brother. Tugger, for once, wasn't wearing his pretend mane—though, in truth, he scarcely needed it now, as his shoulder fur had grown almost as long as he could have wished. His face and paws were blackened as if with soot, and there was the unmistakable odor of smoke emanating from his fur. "Yours?" Mack gasped. "But I _didn't _know! I've never been to _your_ humans' flat, you know that! You always said they wouldn't allow any other…"

"Not _mine, _you moron! If it had been _mine, _no doubt you'd have stayed to enjoy your handiwork."

"Then _whose?" _Mack almost wailed, ready to weep with confusion, frustration, and suspense. "Where _is _everyone? What's happened?"

Before Tugger could make a still angrier reply, MacVitie spotted Alonzo and made a beeline for him, certain of getting more of an answer than he'd got from Tugger. Tugger and Teazer followed, but desperation made MacVitie quicker. "Alonzo! What's happened?" Alonzo stared at him in shocked silence, reminding Mack just how long he'd been gone. He seized Alonzo by the shoulders. "Never mind where _I've _been, just _please _tell me what's happened here! Tugger's been saying—but he won't _explain_—"

At that moment, Tugger and Teazer caught up with them.

"He—" Tugger began to interject. Teazer yanked on his shoulder fur with all her might, and gave him a tiny pinch for good measure.

_"You _keep quiet!" she commanded. "Let Mackee get some answers b'fore yew go killin' 'im wif yer _non_-answers!"

Tugger scowled, but kept quiet. "I can wait," he muttered. "It'll change nothing."

"Alonzo," Mack repeated pleadingly, "what _is_ it? What's this about Jenny and Jelly having their paws full? Who's been injured?"

_"You, _by the looks of it," Alonzo feebly attempted a playful jab. Mack shook his head impatiently.

"It's nothing. Quit stalling and _tell_ me." To his surprise, Alonzo pressed on his shoulders to make him sit down, then sank down next to him. The Harlequin tom took a deep, shuddering breath, as if to steady himself.

"I don't want you to panic," he said firmly, "because Jenny says he'll be fine."

"Who?" But by now Mack was fairly certain he knew.

"Munkustrap. Don't _panic, _I said!" Alonzo snapped, seizing Mack's arm as he tried to jump up and (no doubt) rush to Jenny's 'infirmary' den. "I've said he'll be _fine_, haven't I? He's only somewhat singed and breathed in rather more smoke than was good for him, so now he's got to rest. _Rest, _not be smothered with visitors. I know you want to rush to his side and see for yourself and fawn over him like some worried mum, but you'll have to wait your turn. Between him and the kits and all the other not-so-helpful 'helpers,' it's too crowded in there as it is. Jenny's ready to lose her mind. I'd still be there myself if I hadn't been informed I was useless and sent out to 'patrol the area.'" Alonzo tried to speak lightly, but was clearly more upset and anxious than he wished to let on.

"Kits?" Mack repeated. "D'you mean… Tumble, Sillabub, Victoria…?"

"The ones you tried to _murder,"_ cut in Tugger.

"Shut up," Alonzo snapped, as if Tugger had been mouthing off all day and Alonzo was fed up with it. "We're _all _upset, but don't keep talking nonsense. No one was even really _hurt, _let alone killed, and Mack had nothing to do with it. Don't use him as a scapegoat just because he's been away. No doubt he had his reasons. So I gather you've met the kits," Alonzo went on, turning back to MacVitie. "I'll not ask how, not at the moment. They're getting to be old enough to find human families of their own. Well, to get them used to humans' homes, Munk offered to take them—that is, Tumble, Silla, Vicki, Carbuckety—to visit his home whilst the humans were away for the day. Unfortunately, someone had left the stove on, or…well, somehow a fire started. They were in another part of the house and didn't realize until the fire had spread quite a bit… But everyone got out. I don't think the flat will be completely destroyed; the fire brigade arrived quickly. And Tugger's humans live a few doors down, if you remember, and so he happened to be there to help get the kits out…"

"And to _see," _Tugger interrupted, unable to contain himself a moment longer. _"You _were back here keeping guard, Lonz', you weren't there to see what happened. _I _saw _him," _pointing an accusing claw at MacVitie, "skulking around the rows of flats. Naturally I wondered what he was about, not to _mention _why he hadn't seen fit to show his face in the 'yard and let someone know he was alive—not that that bothered _me, _but I'd had just about enough of Munk walking about with that stupid wounded, forlorn look on his face. Well, I was looking out the window, thinking I'd go down and give that lowlife a piece of my mind, when I saw him stop in front of Munk's door acting all funny. I figured, Oh, he knows Munk's there today and wants to beg his forgiveness and give some sob story for where he's been all this time. Sure enough, he pushed his way through the kitty flap. But strangely—because I _kept_ watching, mind, I'm no idiot—he came back out almost right away. Then he disappeared. I figured he'd lost his nerve or Munk had been too busy with the kits to bother with him. So I carried on brushing my—that is, entertaining my human, until I smelt smoke, and you know the rest."

The other felines stared at Tugger in various levels of dismay.

"People think I don't see things, but I _do_," Tugger added. "He tried to murder Munk!"

Alonzo shook his head in disbelief. "Because he was there, it doesn't follow that he started the fire. Think about what you're saying. MacVitie would never…"

"I didn't know," Mack muttered, holding his head in his paws.

"What?" Alonzo turned back towards MacVitie, mouth agape. "Are you saying…"

"I didn't _know _it was Munk's humans' flat," MacVitie rushed on. "I've been there before, but only once, long ago, and they all look alike on the outside! I didn't know any cats would be there, and I didn't _want _to harm humans, but—but she had Teazer, and—"

"'T'was the Lady Mothah, _she _forced 'im," Rumpelteazer added, showing Alonzo her bloodied, nearly-fully-declawed paw. Alonzo grimaced and looked away, muttering something about 'getting Jenny and Jelly to have a look at it.' _Such softies, these Jellicles._

"That's the excuse they keep giving," Tugger sneered, "'Griddlebone _made_ me do it!' Well, let me tell _you_, no fluffy bully would ever say _anything _to make _me _do something like that to my own—"

"She'd've _killed _me," Teazer snarled, "an'…"

"Say, didn't _you _use to work for this Griddle dame not too long ago?" Tugger cut her off. "How do we know you're not just…"

"I never worked for 'er by _choice!_ An' she 'ad Adme too!" Teazer shot back.

"Is _that _who's lying over there like a dishrag—Admetus? We've been looking everywhere for _him _too." Alonzo shook his head wearily, stood to his footpaws, walked over to Adme and lifted the smaller tom easily in his arms. Admetus gave no response except a slight shudder. "I'm taking him to Jenny. What's one _more_ invalid?" he chuckled bitterly.

"What about _him?" _Tugger demanded, jerking his head in MacVitie's direction. _"You're_ in charge while Munk's laid up, yeah? Aren't you going to run him out of the Junkyard? Want me to run him off _for _you?"

"Now just look'ere," Teazer began.

"You'll leave him alone if you know what's good for you," Alonzo replied in a low, dangerous tone. "MacVitie… I know something of Growltiger and Griddle's powers of manipulation. I can't say you're to blame, or that I wouldn't have done the same in your place. But…but my _kits _were in there, Mack. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't furious with you. By trying to handle the situation on your own, you—but you know all that._ I_ can't lecture you. I've done my share of dumb things. I know you only did what you could, but I—I don't quite actually _know _that yet, if you follow. Sometime we'll talk it out if you'd like, but not now. I can't…" A shudder passed through his frame, and MacVitie got the distinct impression the Harlequin tom was fighting down the urge to strangle him. "I think being a parent must _do _something to you. I feel weird all the time and get angry over things that never would have bothered me before. Listen to me, I'm talking about _feelings__, _for Heaviside's sake! I'm sorry, but that's how it is. Just steer clear of me for a while and we'll be fine," he finished coldly, before walking off with Admetus toward Jenny's infirmary den.

"The same goes for me too," Tugger growled. "The 'steer clear of me' part, not the 'being-a-parent' part. _No _thanks." As he headed off towards his own den, he threw over his shoulder as an afterthought, "Make that 'forever.'"


	21. Chapter 21

MacVitie stood still in the middle of the floor as if he'd taken root there.

Rumpelteazer crept up to him and gave his paw a tentative squeeze. "It'll be a'right," she tried to cheer him. "You'll see. An' no'un was even killed after all—cats _or _'umans!"

"All _right?" _Mack shook his head. "Teazer, it's even worse than I imagined!"

"Ahh, I wouldn' say _that_. We knew ev'ry'un'd be a _bit_ upset, but since we're all t'gethah an' safe now, it'll soon blow ovah."

"Safe. So, you think Griddle's going to leave us alone from now on? _Knowing _her as well as you do, do you truly believe that?" Griddlebone wasn't finished with them, MacVitie felt certain of that. Indeed, it seemed she was _toying _with them. _How could burning a single flat—even forcing a Jellicle to do the actually burning—possibly make up the entirety of Griddlebone's 'Grande Scheme'? No, that must have been some sort of a distraction…or a precursor to something far worse…A test to see how far she could get him to go, and now… Next time, would she command him to set fire to the entire Junkyard? _

"Er…well, p'rahps not," Teazer admitted reluctantly. "But we'll all work to come up wif a plan to be rid'f 'er fer good! _Togethah _this time. No more o' this runnin' off an' 'idin' an' tryin' t'fix it all on yer own. Now, c'mon," she urged, "let's go t' miz Jenny's den an' wait an opportune time t'see Munkeytapp…"

"No." MacVitie recoiled in horror. "You think I can talk to him _now,_ knowing what I've done?"

_"Almost _done," Teazer corrected.

"Fine," Mack snorted, _"Almost. _As if that makes a difference."

"It makes a _great_ diff'rence! Life an' death diff'rence, y' silly goose! An' any'ow," Teazer added, "on'y 'Lonz' an' Tuggah knows…"

"Which means that soon _everyone _will know. Tugger will see to _that, _even if Alonzo doesn't_._"

"Mebbe not. Mebbe 'e jus' needs time t' cool down an' reconsidah…"

"You don't know him. He _will._ And then no one will be able to look me in the eye without remembering that I'm the one who _almost_ killed members of the Tribe. You heard what Alonzo said. They can't _help _blaming me, even if they don't want to. Who _could_ help it? Not to mention…everything I'd already done…_before _that…" Again Jezza's face rose up in his mind.

"Oi dunno where ya gets such notions," Teazer shook her head in exasperation. "Listen. I've lived wif criminals me 'ole life. Didn't even realize we _were _wot y'd call criminals till meetin' yew an' Bomba an' D'metah, an' findin' out somecats was diff'rent. Believe yew me, _yew _ain't no criminal. Yew don' even know _how _t'be a criminal! If yew did, the Lady Muvvah wouldn't've foun' out yer 'idin' place so easily! The way _I _see it, ev'rythin' yew've done has been to 'elp othahs. Me'n Jerrie's prime examples o'_that. _An' so's Miz Bomba, an'…an' Miz D'metah an' Adme. _They _may not see it that way," she added, as if anticipating his protests, "not _now. _They're upset. They ain't used to such bad fings 'appenin' to'em. But they'll get through it. By'n'by, they'll be a'righ' again, you'll see."

"All right again. You keep _saying _that. But how _can _they be all right ever again after all that's happened? How can I—how can any of us? How…how can _you _be all right after _living _with that monster…?"

"Easy," Teazer grinned. "Wot I've always done. I jus' fin' somefin' fun er funny in everyfin' wot 'appens t'me. I tell meself it'll all be fine, an' so it is!" Her grin faded. "Tell the truf', though, sometimes…sometimes I don't feel all righ' at all." She brightened again. "But I gots Jerrie! I mean, we've bof' got each othah! We've _always _'ad each othah. After a partic'larly bad time, we take the fuhst opportunity to get alone an' cry, yell er wotevah 'twas we needed t'feel bettah." She giggled. "Our fav'rite game growin' up was 'How Did Lady Mothah Die?' How it works is, one on us asks that question, an' the othah makes up a way fer her t'die, say 'choked on chicken,' an' then the _othah _one…"

"I think I get the idea," Mack interrupted, stopping her short of a full description. Sometimes he marveled at how quickly the twins 'got over' things despite all that had happened to them. Then one of them would come out with something like _this_ morbid 'game,' showing that—goofy and innocent as they seemed most of the time—Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer had certainly not emerged unscathed from their life among the henchcats. "Sounds like what Munkustrap would call 'sorting your feelings,'" he commented. "Talking to someone about the bad things so you don't simply bottle it up and go stark raving mad with it."

"Exac'ly!" cried Teazer, clapping her paws. "When they're ready, _that's _wot D'metah an' Adme will do! An' Tuggah, an' 'Lonza, an'—an' _yew, _fer that mattah. Ye'll all gather up in a group an'…an'…well, talk an' 'ug each othah an' fings like that, I s'pose."

MacVitie shook his head. He couldn't imagine Demeter coming anywhere near him ever again, let alone speaking to him; as for the two of them ever sharing a friendly hug—that was simply laughable. "Except how d'you just _talk _about something like…like _this?" _

"I dunno," she admitted. "But there mus' be a way…"

"Mac-a-Thing! Teazah!"

The two turned at the unmistakable sound of Mungojerrie's voice. He was headed toward them, Quaxo following close at his heels.

"We heard you were back," Quaxo announced as he and Jerrie matter-of-factly seated themselves beside MacVitie and Teazer. "And now it's time to tell you about the plan."

"Plan?" repeated Mack, bewildered.

"Steady on, there, Quax'," said Mungojerrie, nudging the tuxedo tom in the ribs. "Let's at least say 'ello fuhst!"

"Fine," Quaxo rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Hello. Good to see you." He glanced at Mungojerrie. "Was that all right?"

"It'll do," Jerrie laughed.

"Yew two're bonkers," giggled Teazer, flicking each of them on the ear in lieu of hugs. "Now wot's goin' on?"

"And how can you be so confounded cheerful?" added MacVitie, rather irritably. "Haven't you heard what's happened?"

"Of _course _we know what happened," Quaxo sounded deeply offended, "after all, _we _aren't the ones who've been AWOL lately!"

"Wot's 'AYE-wall'?" Teazer interrupted.

"Oh," Quaxo waved a paw carelessly, "some human word that means gone without permission."

"It's German, Oi fink," Jerrie piped up helpfully.

_"Anyway, _we know what's happened," Quaxo continued, "and I just came from Jenny's infirmary where Munk is resting—he'll be _fine, _by the way, so enough with the mother-hen worrying, MacVitie—and where I assured him we'd handle everything."

"We?" MacVitie raised an eyebrow.

"Yew an' me an' Teazah an' Quax'," explained Mungojerrie.

"And what did he think of _that?" _asked Mack, rather skeptical.

"Well…I may not have used those _exact_ words," Quaxo admitted, "or he might have panicked and hurt himself. He worries—you know? Kind of like how _you _worry, only different. Anyway, I just said the sort of nice things you're _supposed_ to say to a sick person, and then Jerrie and I left. It was crowded."

"And what's this about a plan…?" MacVitie prodded.

"Shh!" Mungojerrie put a paw to his lips. "Not here! We've gotta go talk it over in Quax's den. It's a secret!"

"No, Jerrie," Rumpelteazer groaned, "I _jus' _got done tellin' Mack that secrets are no good. Whatevah's done, needs t'be done _togethah…" _

"It _will," _Quaxo assured her. "The four of _us _together. With Coricopat and Tantomile's help, of course. And the others will come into it later…"

"Why does that _not_ reassure me," sighed MacVitie.

"Come on," said Quaxo, jerking his head to indicate that the others should follow him. "Come into the pipe. I'll explain everything. It's _foolproof, _you'll see."

"Ohh, I'm a bundle o' nerves," squeaked Teazer. "Stop _laughin', _Jerrie!"

"Can' 'elp it. Yew an' Mack's been 'avin' all the adventures lately an' now it's _my_ turn."

"Wot d'yew _mean?" _

"Ye'll see in a bit. This'll be fun!"


	22. Chapter 22

"Will you _stop _laughing," MacVitie hissed.

"Sorry, er, now it's 'cause I'm nervous," Mungojerrie snickered. "I laughs when I'm nervous, Mac…Mac-a…Ma-ca-vi-ty."

"I hate that name. It's not even a real name."

"Sorry, but I gotta practice sayin' it. Y'know wot Quax' said…"

"Yeah…listen. How do we _know_ Quaxo's plan will work? And if it's so perfect, like you two kept saying, why are you so nervous?"

"I'm _allus_ nervous aroun' the Lady Mothah! Who _wouldn't _be? An' I don' expec' to exac'ly be in 'er good graces after…" He gulped. "Runnin' away."

"But this plan," MacVitie prodded, "tell me why you're so confident it will work."

"Well…it's simple, really. Quax's yet t'be wrong about somefin'. Y'know 'e's…diff'rent…"

"Yeah, I knew that the moment I met him. But what do you mean, 'never been wrong'? What _else _has he been right about?"

"Well, not just 'im, it's the three of'em, really, them three clevah ones, Quax' an' Cori an' Tanto-thing… They'll sit whisperin' t'gethah an' next thing y'know they're tellin' somefin' that'll 'appen an' it does."

_"They've_ always been that way, too—for all the good it does any of us," growled MacVitie in frustration. "It never _changes _anything. They couldn't—or didn't—stop me from…from having to…" He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. "And you're saying they _knew?"_

"Ay, they knew, but _think _on't, Mackey! If you 'adn't done as Lady Mothah commanded, Teazer'n Adme've been killed! There wos no gettin' 'round _that. _An' if'n they tried to interfere, sommat _worse _might've 'appened! _Knowin'_ fings an' _stoppin'_ 'em is two diff'rent mattahs. Just 'cause they knew wot the Mothah intended don' mean they could've changed'er min' er stopped 'er doin' it."

"And how about all those months Bomba and Demeter and I were stuck in the warehouse and all that happened…Couldn't they have used their super mental powers to find us a way out of there? Couldn't they have found out Growltiger and Griddlebone's plans _before _any of us ever rushed off to the warehouse, before any of this ever happened?"

"But they couldn' very well 'elp that yer mum got caught up in it, could they? That's the fing…every'un's makin' choices, everythin's changin' all the time, yew may fix _one _fing but cause a bigger problem. Quax' wos tryin' to explain it all t'me, it's still got me all baffledybuzzed." Mungojerrie's ears drooped. "I'm sorry fer you'uns, Mac-a-thing… But I'm grateful, too. Wifout yew… me'n Teazah'd still be there." He paused. "Y'know, Teazah'n' me, we us'd t'play this game…'Ow Did Lady Mothah—"

"Teazer told me all about _that _one," MacVitie interrupted quickly, before Jerrie could launch into yet another (perhaps even more detailed) description of the twins' morbid game.

"Oh—er, righ', well, then…"

"And now you've finally escaped that life, _we're _going back there willingly! _Why? _If knowing doesn't change anything, what are we expected to accomplish?"

"Oi didn't say knowin' changes _nothin'," _Jerrie protested. "Didn't yew listen t' Quax'? Knowin' gives yew the _advantage!_ It 'elps yew decide 'ow to act in the moment! Specially when th'enemy don't _know _wot yew know er 'ow yew know it…y'know?"

"Fine. I'll buy that. But listen." MacVitie stopped and seated himself on a deserted front stoop. Mungojerrie stared questioningly at him, and Mack patted the space beside him. "Sit. I'm not stirring another step until I know _everything."_

Reluctantly, Mungojerrie sat down beside him. "Wot d'yew mean, everythin'? Quax' explained…an' we gotta keep movin'…" The tiger tom glanced around anxiously, wondering if they were being spied on.

"Quaxo _didn't _explain what he meant," Mack persisted, beyond caring if anyone heard, "when he said that Griddle's plan was not the same as Growltiger's."

"Well…" Mungojerrie lowered his voice. "The…the Tigah's vendetta wos against 'umans. Well, against Ole D too, but mainly 'cause 'e interfered… But the Lady couldn' care two straws fer 'umans. She on'y wants to 'urt the Jellicles."

"But _why? _What does _she _know of us? Our connection was with the Tiger, _he's _the one who was banished and clearly she didn't care a thing about him or she wouldn't have let him be killed…"

"She _did _care. That's _why _she let'im be killed." Jerrie put a paw over his mouth as if he'd said too much.

"That makes no sense."

"Truf' is…" Jerrie sighed. "I don' quite understand it meself, but it…" He shifted uncomfortably and looked apprehensively at MacVitie, as if frightened of the effect his next words might have. "The…the Tiger at one time preferred…the Lady Grizabella…yer mum." He cringed away as if expecting MacVitie to strike him. To his surprise, Mack looked pained but not shocked. He did recoil slightly at the name _Grizabella. Her Glamour Cat name, _he guessed.

"She told me," MacVitie sighed. "About her former life…Not all about the rivalry and such…but it makes sense. Now I see why Quaxo didn't like to explain. Though he must have known I already knew _something_."

Jerrie hung his head. "'m awful sorry abou'…abou' all this, Mac-a…"

"Never mind. Better to know. It was bound to come out sooner or later, and…and it solves the mystery of Plato and Admetus. They're Growltiger and my mum's kits, you know."

Mungojerrie's eyes widened. "Bu' then…assumin' the Tiger wos me an' Teaz's dad… That makes 'em our brothahs! Fancy that, _me _'avin' two brothahs!" His face changed expressions multiple times, as if uncertain whether he should be happy at the discovery.

"They're my brothers, too."

"By 'eck, so they are!" Jerrie gasped, then frowned. "Does that make you'n _me _some sorta brothahs? An' Teazah yer sistah? I 'ope not, 'cause she—that is, nevahmin'…No, no it don't make us brothahs…no shared parent…Er…this…this is awkward."

"Let's move on," said MacVitie abruptly, standing to his feet. "But," he added quickly, as something else occurred to him, "say _nothing _to Griddlebone about Plato and Admetus. I don't think she knows who their parents are, or she'd not have released Admetus so easily… But if she found out, there could be trouble."

Jerrie mimed zipping his mouth shut. "We'd best be gettin' on," he agreed, happy enough to leave that strange conversation behind. "But yew…yew un'erstan' wot needs doin'?"

"I think so. I just hope it _works." _


	23. Chapter 23

"But why's _Jerrie _get t'go an' _I've _gotta stay 'ere?" Teazer demanded.

Quaxo sighed. "I've already _explained _that we…"

"Try again, then. Keepin' in mind this time that _I _don' read minds, an' so y've gotta say it all out _loud!" _

"Cori and Tanto and I don't _read minds," _Quaxo protested. "We just _understand _others really well. They understand _intentions_ better, while I understand _feelings_ better. Well, sometimes... Tanto's also rather good at that...Though often those go paw in paw…"

"Y'do _so _read min's," Teazer interrupted. "Otherwise 'ow c'ld the three on ya talk to each othah wifout even bein' in th'same place?"

"So, maybe we _do, _in a way," Quaxo admitted, "with each other and with those who ask for it and such… But not always. Not with just _anyone. _It's difficult to, er, mind-meld with someone who's not close to you, or is an enemy with their guard constantly up…did you know folk build up walls around their _minds _just the same as humans build up fences in real life? It's fascinating, really..."

"But keepin' to the point, yew _can _in cer'ain cases_. _An' _yew_ c'n move fings wifout touchin' 'em," muttered Teazer. "An' put folks t'sleep fer days, as me'n'Jerrie foun' out firs'paw…_an'_, fr'm wot I 'ear, make lightnin' wif yer paws…"

"I just imagine what it must be like," Quaxo shrugged, "for the object in _one _place, and then think what it would feel like in a completely _different_ place. I concentrate on that until it's true. As for putting people to sleep, and the lightning…I haven't quite mastered those yet." He frowned. "In fact, I've really no _idea _how I did it. It was by sheer luck that you two woke again, and I don't know if I could repeat that with someone else. And the lightning only appears randomly. Which is unfortunate, because Silla's expecting me to show off the lightning at the Ball, but if I don't have it just right, someone could get hurt… Er, sorry, let's stay on task."

"An' if alls yew c'n do fer the mos' part is _understand _some'un really well, 'ow c'n yew know…" She lowered her voice. "…The Lady Mothah's plan?"

"Because by understanding intentions and feelings, we can pretty nearly guess the thoughts. And from the thoughts, the actions. Well, unless they change their minds. Or unless they purposely _think_ in a different way from what they _mean_. But even then, the intentions are more accurate indications of what's really going to happen. You know?"

"Eh?" Teazer scratched her head. He'd lost her.

"Look," Quaxo explained patiently, "suppose you were walking along thinking to yourself, 'I'm going straight to bed when I get home, I'm going straight to bed when I get home,' over and over, when _really_ you planned on doing no such thing—you planned to do something else, like steal and eat all of Jenny's mice?"

"I'd _nevah _do that," Teazer gasped. "She'd 'ave my 'ead! An' anyway, why would I be tellin' meself somethin' else that I knew I wasn't gonna do? That'd be silly."

"It would," Quaxo agreed, _"unless _you were afraid someone was _reading your thoughts, _as you call it. What if Jenny could _read your thoughts _and so you were doing your best to think something _else_ so's to trick her? And it would probably _work, _too, if that were really all she could do—if she could only hear the _words_ you were thinking in your head and not know if they were true or not. You could think anything you wanted and she'd have to guess whether or not to believe it!"

"But that's _not _just wot yew an' Cori an' Tant do—not mainly?"

"No. As I said, we first and foremost understand the feelings and intentions. That means that no matter what _words _someone thinks, we still know what they _actually _mean to do—unless, of course, they can change their own feelings and intentions at the drop of a hat. Some can. But that's _much _harder than simply thinking different words, so it's an advantage that the twins and I understand what we understand. You follow?"

"Er…Oi fink so. All righ' then. So yew'n they c'n pretty nearly guess Lady Mothah's plan… Why's it vital that Jerrie'n Mackey…"

"Better practice saying _Macavity."_

She grimaced. "Mac-a-vity. Jerrie'n'me made that'un up by accident. Wish we 'adn't."

"It'll come in handy, believe me."

"In any case, why's it so important that Jerrie goes an' I stay?"

"Oh, as to _that_—it's not _so _very important, really. Only Jerrie was in on the preliminary planning and you weren't, and so he got first dibs in the matter. Though," he eyed her thoughtfully, "it probably _is _for the best, come to think of it…"

"Why—but—he—that…" Rumpelteazer sputtered. "Why, the _sneak! _T'think 'e wos meetin' wif yew all this time an' nevah invited _me!" _

"I might point out," Quaxo answered mildly, "that _you _were meeting with Vit—Macavity, and never invited _Jerrie. _Or me, for that matter. Or anyone else who might have been helpful."

"Yeah, but _yer_ jus'…" She trailed off short of saying 'you're just a kit.' He wasn't so very much younger than herself, and from the first time she and Jerrie had met him, it had been infinitely clear that the _last _thing Quaxo was was 'just a kit.' "Nevahmin'. Fine. Fair 'nough. But me'n' Mack wos jus' _tryin'…"_

"I know," said Quaxo quickly, "you were trying to help. Trying to stop Griddlebone's plan without having to involve anyone else." He shook his head. "It was just like MacVitie, trying to carry the weight of the world all on his own…"

"Yer tellin' _me," _Teazer rolled her eyes.

"But I don't blame him—or you. He thought he was on to something, and you were following his lead. Only—he misunderstood."

"But _wot'd_ 'e misunderstand?"

"He thought that, like Growltiger, Griddlebone intended to hurt humans. That is, hurt Old Deuteronomy _by _hurting humans—apart from looking after the Jellicles, he considers protecting humans his life's work, you know. That's why he hangs around that vicarage all the time, looking after things, being a companion to the parson when he's got mounds of writing to do... But with Griddlebone, it's different; she's aiming to hurt…well, _all _of us, but it would be truer to say she means to _use _all of us to hurt Bella—_Griza_bella, as she calls her."

Teazer frowned. "I've 'eard 'er mentioned among the 'enches, but don't quite…"

"She's MacVitie and Munkustrap and Tugger's mother. She's the reason MacVitie and Alonzo came to be among the henchcats in the first place. They were trying to rescue her. Or, more accurately… they made a bargain that if _they_ stayed, _she_ could go free."

"Oh…" Teazer's eyes widened,_"that _Bella." She'd never quite understood all the reasons behind Alonzo and Mack's arrival in Growltiger's…now Griddlebone's…territory. They'd simply appeared one day, that was all; nothing strange, new recruits came round occasionally and it hadn't been for _her _to question the Tiger's choices. Alonzo had left almost as soon as he'd arrived, she'd never understood why until she'd caught a glimpse of him with his kits. As for MacVitie…well, she had this silly, fanciful idea that he'd stayed on to save her and Jerrie. _Silly notion, really. 'Twas Bomb' an' Deme wot 'e stayed fer. 'Specially Deme…_

"Yes, _that _Bella. She hasn't been back here in some time," said Quaxo sadly. "She feels that…" He shook his head. "I don't quite gather _what _she feels—it's all of a muddle. In some ways she feels like MacVitie—that is, blames herself for all the dreadful things that have ever happened, even if she had nothing to do with them. But there's something else I can't _quite_…talk about a cat who _really _puts walls up… In any case, she's afraid to return—afraid that if she does, everyone will resent her for one thing or another. Truth be told…some _are_ beginning to. First they were worried, but the longer she stays away, the more the worry turns to anger. If she stays away, how can it be that she cares anything for her family or the Tribe? They don't understand, of course, everything she's been through, and she's afraid to tell. Even Munkustrap is beginning to feel hurt and abandoned by her, even though he knows her story and ought to understand."

"But wot _'as_ she been through, an' wot's it got t'do wif Lady Mothah?"

"It's…" Quaxo hesitated. "It's not exactly my place to tell the whole story. But, you see, they used to run with the same gang. Suffice it to say…" He flushed. "There was a rivalry between them over a certain tom."

"The Tiger," Teazer whispered. "Mus' be. That…that's why…Lady Mothah got rid of'im. She's ruf'less…'specially when insul'ed… An' now she aims t'get rid o'Bella. But not b'fore makin' 'er go through as much badness as possible."

"You know her well," Quaxo nodded.

"Ay. Wisht I didn't."

"As a matter of interest…why d'you keep calling her Lady Mother?"

Teazer stared at him, taken aback. "Why…it's wot we've _always _called'er, Jerrie'n'me. It's wot we were _told_ to call'er, an' y'don' disobey'er wifout dire consequence, believe yew me!"

"But _you_ needn't obey her anymore—you're safe here, you're not under her power."

"'Scuse me, but until th'plan's _actually_ carried out an' she's good'n gone, it seems t'me _no _one's safe. So long's Mackey—an' Jerrie—is anywhere near 'er, I ain't takin' no chances, mistah know-ev'rythin'!"

"Well, just call her The Lady, then, if you must."

"Wot bus'ness is't o'_yours_ wot I call'er?" Teazer leapt to her feet, her irritation increasing by the minute.

"I just can't stand hearing it. D'you think she's really your mother? She's not!"

Just as soon as she'd jumped up, Teazer sank back down to the floor of Quaxo's den. "H…how d'ye know?"

"She hates you both, for one. No mother hates her kits."

Teazer shook her head. So this kit still had a healthy dose of naiveté, even if he _seemed _to know everything and_ talked_ as if he were as ancient as Deuteronomy. "That…that ain't always true."

"Maybe not. But it is in this case, believe me. Coricopat and Tantomile agree: she stole you and Jerrie from your real parents when you were newkits. I'm sorry, but that's the truth."

"Yew sh'ld know," Teazer mumbled, hiding her face in her paws, "that just 'cause yer _good_ at figgerin' fings out, don' mean yew _should. _An' every time yew figger somefin' out, it don't mean yew sh'ld allus _share _wot y'know. Y—yew can' jus'…blurt fings _out _like that!"

"But…" Quaxo looked puzzled. "Don't you _want _to know? Aren't you glad such an awful feline _isn't _your real…"

"She's been the on'y sort muvver Jerrie'n'me's evah known…even if she _is_ frigh'ful…yew…yew don' understand…"

"I'm sorry," sighed Quaxo, his ears drooping. "It's not as if I _like _knowing everyone else's business! I only said anything because I thought—I thought you'd be happy about it. But you're right…I _don't_ really understand. I never had any sort of a mother at all, that I can remember. No brothers and sisters, either. Always just me and good old Uncle Bustopher." He chuckled. "Never went _hungry,_ that's for sure."

Teazer moved her paws away from her face. "Neever did me'n'Jerrie, but that's 'cos we learnt all sorts o' ways t'get food. Wif er wifout permission." She shrugged. "P'raps yew got the bettah end o'the stick. 'Oo c'n say? But…wot's all this got t'do wif the plan?"

"Right—the plan—sorry, so many things whirling through one's head at once can be…"

"Quax. Yew _ain'_ doin' a good job reassurin' me that this plan o'yours is gonna work when yew can' even stay on task _explainin'_ it."

"But all of this that we're talking about _is _related to the plan. See," Quaxo went on impatiently, _"this _is why I started by just telling you the bare minimum of what you needed to know! The rest is just details that can be figured out as they crop up…"

"Y'made me wait outside whilst y'gave Jerrie'n'Mack _their _marching orders. They walked off, an' when I came inside t'get _mine, _alls I got was 'Right, they're goin' undercovah, we're workin' here.' Yew call _that _'what I need to know'? Wot is't exac'ly that Jerrie'n'Mack are gonna _do, _an' wot're _we _doin' in the meantime?"

"They're going undercover, _just _like I said. And as for us—well, we'll be plenty busy; it's time to get started preparing for the Ball!"

"The Ball? Wot's a Ball?" Teazer frowned in thought. "D'ye mean… Is that that dance pahty I've 'eard the kits talkin' about? Yew mus' be mad! 'Oo's got time t'think o' _dancin' _wif all that's goin' on?"

"Old Deuteronomy, for one. I can guarantee you, as soon as everyone's out of the infirmary, he's going to show up and have a talk with Munkustrap about how _the Ball is more important than ever this year, everyone needs the distraction,_ and all that. And the Ball has _got _to go on, because that's just when the most vital part of our plan will take place: _that's_ when we'll be rid of that Griddle cat for good."

"Keep yer voice down," Teazer hissed. "Supposin' she's got spies listenin' righ' this instant?"

"I'd know," Quaxo shrugged, lowering his voice anyway, "but we can whisper if it makes you feel better. And anyway, it's not as if she has _endless_ numbers of guards who can be everywhere at once…"

"So yer tellin' me yew've gotta surefire trick to make…some'un…disappear, an' it can _on'y _be at the Ball?" Teazer raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Sounds too good t'be true."

"It's _not_ surefire, and it won't be easy. It'll take all my powers of concentration, which is why you've got to be ready to do _your_ part when the time comes. Between now and the Ball, I'll be practicing moving objects greater and greater distances. At some point I'll have to find a cat who's willing to, er, be a real-life guinea pig. Don't worry, it'll be perfectly safe; I'll bring them back…"

"And wot'll _I _be doin' in the meanwhile? Apart from stringin' up lights and such silliness?" She covered her mouth with her paw as if she'd suddenly remembered something. "Crimes! Is Miz Jenny gonna make _me _play dress-up in'er song like the kits've talked abou'…"

"If she does, you'll _love _it, so don't worry about that. The _first_ thing you've got to work at, though…and, I'm sorry, this is the bit you won't like…is spreading a rumour, and making sure as many cats as possible believe it. Those you can't convince will have to be awfully good at pretending. I mean _really _good. Question of life or death. That's why it's best if they just believe the rumour, but there are some who will be nigh impossible to convince…"

"Wot rumour?"

"That MacVitie has joined forces with Griddlebone and now calls himself Macavity."


	24. Chapter 24

"What makes you think I should believe you? I ought to have the pair of you killed here and now." The Persian queen stared down, seemingly unimpressed, at MacVitie and Mungojerrie, each of whom had a half-dozen henchcats surrounding him to ensure neither of the toms made a move. From the corner of his eye, Mack thought he spotted Gilbert, alias Genghis, but knew better than to try and get his attention. It was vital he and Jerrie should stick to the task at paw. And anyway, for all Mack could tell, Gilbert had shown that he cared more about saving his own neck than anything else. No doubt what caring or sympathy he'd had in his heart had died off along with his mate, Hecuba. Why should Cassandra be bothered with such a parent now? She was better off not knowing him at all. Just as Alonzo was better off not knowing _his _father. … It began to dawn on MacVitie that the Jellicles and the Henchcats were far more closely connected than he cared to think about. At least two of them had kits now living with the Jellicles— _No, three. Whoever Carbuckety's father is…And then there's Griddlebone, assuming she's actually…_

MacVitie suddenly realized Griddlebone was waiting impatiently for his answer. She had a nerve behaving like this when he'd only just burned a building for her and—for all she knew—burned up several Jellicles along with it. But _she_ held the power here, and her skepticism was no more than he'd expected. What was Quaxo _thinking? _How would they _ever_ convince Griddlebone they'd turned their backs on the Jellicles? Jerrie, perhaps, but for MacVitie the very idea was simply laughable. Yet according to Quaxo, Coricopat, and Tantomile, it was their only hope.

"For my part, I'm not expecting you to believe me at once—but only to allow me sufficient opportunity to prove it. Have my every move watched, if you like."

Griddlebone chuckled. "Oh, you'll _prove _it all right, and you'll _certainly _be watched every moment of your existence here—that's assuming I let you live long enough. You'll _prove _it thoroughly, else I'll have _that _one…" She jerked her head in Mungojerrie's direction. "…Tied up in a bag and dropped into the Thames. That's _after _I let the others have a bit of fun with him first." For the first time since their arrival, she turned and addressed Jerrie directly. "Would you like _that_, eh? Exactly what d'_you _have to say for yourself? Where's that useless sibling of yours? Dead, is she?"

Mungojerrie mumbled something incoherently. It occurred to MacVitie that Jerrie wouldn't have any trouble acting _his _'part.' He was still as terror-stricken as ever by this gargantuan queen, and Mack hated to think what she'd done to him—and to Teazer—to make them so subservient.

"Speak up," Griddlebone snapped, "or are you feeling like a swim in the river _immediately?" _

"Please, Lady Mothah…" Jerrie's voice broke.

"Don't call me that," the henchqueen snarled, "I'm sick to death of hearing it. Always 'Lady Mothah' this, 'Lady Mothah' that, and you can't even _say _it properly thanks to that giant striped oaf, may he rot at the bottom of the river. Simply 'My Lady' will do from now on; d'you understand?"

"Ay, Lady Mo—milady. If y'please, milady, we on'y said it 'cause o' yer orders…"

"Are you _questioning _my orders now?"

Mungojerrie recoiled in horror. "N-no, milady!"

"Very well, then. _Forget _my previous orders. It was a mere pretense, and it's high time all pretenses are over." Jerrie's eyes widened at the word 'pretense,' but he dared not question her further, and only nodded mutely to show he understood. "Now—answer me. Where's the other one?"

"If y'please, milady, she…she wouldn' come wif me."

Griddlebone's eyes narrowed. "Rubbish. You mean to tell me that your twin, your bloody _shadow, _is alive and well but separated from you? You two have _never _been separated! Well," she added as an afterthought, with an amused smirk, "not _willingly." _The smirk disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived. "So. This makes for an interesting development. Tell me, Stripes, is _she _spying on the Jellicles?" She spat at the word 'Jellicles,' and all her gang followed suit. Jerrie spat belatedly, and MacVitie failed to do so at all. At first this worried him; then he reflected that to follow _all_ the henchcats' ways perfectly right off the bat would be a dead giveaway that he was a fake. He may have made the 'momentous decision' to switch loyalties, but he must still seem conflicted, the way anyone would be. Griddlebone caught his eye, an eyebrow raised and her lip curled in a sneer. Contempt, but not suspicion. So far he was behaving just about as she should expect. She turned back towards Jerrie. "Is she spying on _them, _or are _you _spying on _me?" _

"Milady knows I'd nevah _dare _spy on yew," Mungojerrie gulped. "An'…an' Teazah…she wouldn' tell me _why_ she stayed…p'raps she's simply frighten'd." He glanced up appealingly at the Persian queen.

Griddlebone glared down at him. "Are you asking me not to drag her back here and punish her like the traitor she is, simply because she might be 'frightened'?"

"She means no'arm," Jerrie pleaded, "she on'y wan'ed…tha' is…preferred t'stay where she was, whilst I preferred to return 'ere."

"Preferred," sneered Griddlebone. "Since when does what you _prefer _come into it at all?"

"I prefer wotever 'tis yew wish," said Jerrie placatingly. "After…wot 'appen'd…'twas madness. Strange cats runnin' about. Didn't know where any'un was. Not knowin' wot else t'do, I fled. But I knew when it all settled down, ye'd wan' me back'ere, an' so 'ere I am, ready t'do yer bidding."

"I believe you. But divided loyalties are dangerous things, little tyke. Suppose your sister took it into her head to spy on _me _for our enemies? Suppose she were caught—no, not 'suppose,' no 'suppose' about it; if she attempts such a foolish trick, of _course _she'll be caught. Suppose I ordered_ you_ to kill her?"

Jerrie gulped. "I…I'd do it. Fer yew, milady."

Griddlebone stared searchingly into his face. Bravely, Jerrie returned the stare, though MacVitie fancied he saw one or two tears trickle down the younger tom's cheek. "I believe you," the queen repeated finally. "And not to worry; if there's any killing needs doing, it most likely won't be _you _I'll call on." She turned her glare on MacVitie once more. _"You _I don't believe. I know how you and your little friends tried to turn my own followers against me. No doubt you hoped that those who did for my _poor _Growltiger did for me as well." She didn't even pretend to look sorry about her mate's demise. "But you shall have your chance to prove yourself. You'll work nights; I'll think up plenty of tasks for you, rest assured. Meanwhile, you'll spend the daylight hours resting your paws—where I can keep an _eye _on you, not stuffed away in a basement where you can conspire unheard. Tumblebrutus!"

The patched tom—of whom Mack had got a glimpse at the pub—stepped forward. "Milady."

"You and Genghis will take it in turns to guard him," Griddlebone ordered. "It's no odds to me how you divide up the hours, but one of you must be with him at all times, and a second at the door. Escort him to the crate in my den."

Tumblebrutus nodded. "This way, Nappy," he growled. MacVitie followed, ignoring the snickers from the other henchcats and forcing himself not to look back at Mungojerrie. They were both alive; for now, that was what mattered. So far Quaxo had been right about how Griddlebone would behave. He only hoped the rest of it went as planned.


	25. Chapter 25

"No. It's not true. I _refuse _to believe this!"

The tabby queen stood awkwardly before Munkustrap, paws figeting behind her back, shuffling her footpaws uncomfortably. It wasn't as if she _knew _the Jellicle Protector that well, and now she had to get him to believe what essentially amounted to a made-up story. _Just because she was a thief, it didn't make her a good _liar_…_ Having mentioned Jerrie and Mack's absence to Alonzo, Rumpelteazer had got the harlequin to agree to break the news to Munkustrap once the silver tabby was out of the infirmary, thus (she'd hoped) saving _her_ having to go through such a confrontation—_conversation, _she'd corrected herself, this wasn't a battleground after all…or _was it? _Unfortunately, Munk had been unsatisfied with Alonzo's explanations and asked to see whoever it was the harlequin tom had heard the news from: namely, Teazer. Now, standing here in Munkustrap's den, she felt as though she were back in a situation she'd experienced many times before: being grilled by the Lady Mother as to her whereabouts and doings, and if she didn't give satisfactory answers— But thankfully, the situation was also very _unlike _those to which she was accustomed: unlike Griddlebone, Munkustrap wouldn't start beating and slapping her about if she said anything he didn't like or didn't answer his questions at lightning speed. At least, Teazer _hoped _not. But she supposed she couldn't really know for sure. Thus far these Jellicles—for the _most _part—had proven completely different to anything she and Jerrie had known in the warehouse with the henchcats. But she still hadn't known these 'nice cats' for very long, and wasn't accustomed to calm discussions in which neither party ended up with some scratches and bruises. And hadn't she only just recently seen one Jellicle brother attack another? And it'd been _Tugger, _at that, whom everyone seemed to adore! For all she knew these cats were just as dangerous as the henches. Instinctively, she took a few steps back.

But when she ventured to raise her golden eyes to glance timidly up into the silver tabby's green ones, she detected no anger there—only shock, hurt, and something else she couldn't identify.

"I can't believe it," he repeated. "How can you be sure?"

"W-well," she stammered, "Oi…I can' be…c-_certain _sure…beyond _any_ doubt at all… Bu'… Jerrie'n'me… We'd jus' 'ad the grandest row of our lives. Oi foun' 'im lookin' ready t'go off somewheres'n said didn' 'e know 'twas dangerous t'wander about wot wif all that's been goin' on an' the Lady Moth—the Lady an'er 'enchcats at large'n 'e come righ' out an' say we're goin' back to'er. Nat'rally I said I ain' goin' anywhere, we _jus' _got away, an'—but 'e finks we're worse off'ere, an' that I'm crazy t'stay 'cause bein' friends wif' the Jellicles means makin' an enemy o' the Lady, an' did I wanna be kilt?"

"I'd never have let anything happen to you two," Munkustrap protested—his automatic response to any mention of danger, though clearly he was distracted, scarcely listening to her babble except to wait for the bit when he'd find out how all this involved his brother.

"I know," Teazer acknowledged, though she was by no means certain. Hadn't plenty of dreadful things already happened to Munk's own family? And the silver tom had been powerless to stop any of it. Of course, that might be largely due to the fact that they kept running themselves into danger _behind his back. _Like now… "Bu' Jerrie…well, Oi fink me almos' bein'…that is, me'n Adme…well,'e finks it's pref'rable t'be the—the _slave _o'the most dang'rous cat in town than t'be 'er enemy. An' I said'ow c'ld 'e be so ungra'ful when Mack wos the one wot saved us an'all… Then'e got a funny look an' said Mack was goin' wif'im."

Munkustrap shook his head. "But it makes no sense! I can understand Jerrie's reasons—Teazer, don't be angry with him, you two scarcely know us and it's hardly his fault if he doesn't wish to risk his neck for a group of cats he hardly knows…"

"But even a _blind _bloke c'ld see't yew an' yer folks is much better to'ave as friends'n that—that _monstress," _Teazer gasped, her fear and misplaced loyalty for the 'Lady Mother' growing less and less by the minute. In spite of herself, she was beginning to take to heart what Quaxo had said—that she had no ties to the Persian, nor never had, nor had any need to fear her anymore. Suspiciously, she wondered if the tuxedo tom was somehow meddling with her mind now, making her less afraid. For that matter, perhaps it was he who was inspiring her to tell such a great load of fibs to Munkustrap! But then, the only _real _fib was that Jerrie and Mack had gone back to Griddlebone because they _wanted _to…

"Yes," said Munkustrap, "and I'm grateful you think so. But fear is a very powerful thing, and—" He frowned. "Perhaps _that's_ it—fear. But what is Vitie afraid _of_—? I'm sorry, Teazer—did Jerrie say anything else?"

"Er…" Teazer gulped. "'E said… er, that is, I said that couldn' be righ', why'ud Mackavee ever go back there, an' Jerrie said c'ld y'blame'im not wantin' t'stay 'ere where no'un wan'ed 'im?"

"No one _wanted _him?"

Rumpelteazer held up her paws defensively. "I'm on'y repeatin' wot I was told…an', an' y've been laid up in Jenny's den the pas' sev'ral days, y've not seen it, but Jerrie does'ave a bit of a point. Mack's avoided ev'ry'un an' they've all more er less avoided'im back…" She fought back tears—for the fact remained that MacVitie and Mungojerrie _had _gone, which was upsetting enough in itself regardless of the reasons. Even if she was having to invent the _story_, Teazer had no need for any 'acting' as far as her feelings were concerned. "An' so eviden'ly Jerr'n'Mack decided on their own that it'ud be bettah fer both on'em if they went."

"And Jerrie decided this without _you?" _Munkustrap gazed at her in disbelief. Whatever else he knew or didn't know about the twins, he had learnt early on to think of them as inseparable—just like Coricopat and Tantomile, or (until more recently) Plato and Admetus.

"Reckon'e knew I pr'ferr'd it'ere an' would object. But when it came down to it, 'e figgered I'd foller'im." She scrubbed at her eyes, scarcely able to hold back the tears any longer. If this conversation didn't end soon… "Bu' I couldn'…not this time…no' go back _there."_

"You're safe, Teazer," Munkustrap hastened to reassure her. "No one's ever making you go back there. ... He thought no one _wanted_ him," the silver tabby went on, muttering to himself, almost forgetting Teazer's presence. "He never asked _me! _Why, he never came to see me at all," he added in an astonished tone, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. "Gone for ages and then gone again…without even speaking to me." He shook his head. "That Growltiger…and then Griddlebone…he'd scarcely been two steps from home before…who knows what they put him through…enough to drive _anycat_ mad, no doubt…"

Was he already beginning to believe it—not only that Mack had left, but that his reasons were sinister? Was it truly _this _easy to make Munkustrap doubt his own brother? Teazer couldn't bear it. Despite what Quaxo had said—no doubt he'd have recommended she _allow _Munk to continue down this line of thinking, it was safest for all and so on—Teazer couldn't refrain from speaking up again, "'E _wan'ed _t'see ya, I'm _sure _of it. On'y…'e couldn' stan' the thought o'seein' yew ill…well, after…an' 'e blamed'imself fer it…'e's blam'd 'imself fer just about ev'rythin' on earth lately…" She trailed off, uncertain where she was headed with her words, only desperate for Munkustrap _not _to think the worst of MacVitie.

"Just like Mum," Munkustrap murmured.

"Eh?" At least she'd remembered not to let on that she knew anything of Bella's story.

Munkustrap shook his head. "Nothing," he sighed. "Is…is that all you know?"

Teazer hesitated. "Ay—nay—that is…"

"Well, is there more or isn't there?" he asked, somewhat sharply.

Teazer's lower lip trembled. "I…"

Munkustrap put a paw to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Teazer. None of this is your fault, and you've been through enough already without being interrogated…You've told me plenty. This isn't your problem. Why don't I walk you to Jenny's den and she'll give you a snack…"

"But it _is _my problem," she choked out, no longer caring if Munk saw her tears. "Jerrie's me bruvvah, an' Vitie—Vitie's my—my friend. The fuhst _real_ frien' Jerrie'n'me ever'ad! May'ap I've not known 'im's'long's _yew, _but I _do _care about'im. An' I don'—don' wan' yew t'think…badly of'im." Quaxo would not be happy with her for moving in this direction. She didn't care. 'They must believe it, or be very good at _pretending _to believe it.' Very well, then, she'd hope Munk was good at pretending, because she _wasn't_ going to try anymore to make him believe his brother had 'gone bad.' "'E'd nevah…nevah join with the Lady unless—well, 'e must'ave a plan."

"He's _always _got a plan, apparently," Munk growled in frustration. "Or Coricopat and Tantomile have a plan, with _him _as their chief pawn. And it _never _involves me. And thus far nothing seems to have been accomplished except Jellicles either disappearing for months on end or just barely missing being killed."

"But _think _on it," Teazer insisted, warming to her subject and forgetting her own hurt feelings. "Yew'n'yer bruvvahs—fr'm wot I gather yer sommat like the Protection Squad fer the Junkyahd. Ol' D. d'pends on ya t'keep fings safe whilst 'e spends most on'is time elsewhere. Yeah? An' yew an' Tuggah've got 'uman fam'lies t'take care of as well. Well, wot wif _yew _bein' needed'ere fer protection an' Tuggah bein' needed orften at'is 'umans' 'ouse…" Tempting as it was to dismiss Tugger as 'useless' and 'lazy,' the last thing Teazer wanted at the moment was to cause more division amongst the brothers. "Well, 'oo does that leave t'go off an' see to the protectin' _away _fr'm the Junkyahd?" Munkustrap didn't answer. "An'," she added, lowering her voice, "'tain't true that _nothin's _been accomplished…the Tigah's gone." She paused. "Altho'…Mack an' Deme an' Bomba didn't really'ave anyfin' t'do wi' _that _far's I know. But…it pr'vided the distrac-shun needed fer them—an' me'n'Jerrie—to escape. An' now…now there's one less enemy t'worry about." She peered sideways at Munkustrap, uncertain what his reaction would be. Jellicles weren't keen on harming other creatures, even if it _was _an enemy. But no Jellicle had _done _any of the actual killing…

There was a long pause. Then, "Come on," said Munkustrap, "I'll take you to Jenny…"

"I _know _'ow t'find'er meself," Rumpelteazer responded, somewhat peevishly. "If'n y'wants me t'go away an' leave yew alone, jus' say so." But she followed along with the silver tabby all the same. Was he not going to say _anything _else about what they'd just been discussing? What was he thinking of? Was he secretly planning on going to the warehouse and investigating on his own…? "Say, Munk'tap," she said as they made their way to Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks's den, "y'_do _believe me, don'tcha? Tha' is…"

"What you've said makes sense," he responded briefly, "and I hope you're right. And I suppose…I'd better not go following them, not yet—it might ruin whatever schemes they've concocted and land them in even bigger trouble. I don't want _you _or anyone else following them either," he added, narrowing his eyes and momentarily turning to fix her with his most no-nonsense expression before returning his gaze to the front to watch where they were going. "I know this must be upsetting for you, but you'd only endanger yourself—_and _them—if you tried anything now. Also, as a matter of interest," he lowered his voice as they had almost reached Jenny's den, where she appeared to be laying out some sort of a picnic, "Jenny might collapse with heart failure if she sees anymore injured cats. _Please _don't go off and get hurt and be the cause of her untimely demise."

"Wouldn' _dream _on it. But lissen…" She tugged at Munkustrap's paw to get him to stop before they reached Jennyanydots. "I don'…wanna hurt'er feelin's but… Well, I ain' some baby kit an'…I don't need… That is, she needn't feel like she'as t'…"

"Take care of you?" Munkustrap chuckled. "But she takes care of _everyone_—not just kits. It's something of a specialty with her. With Jellylorum as well." He grew serious again. "There's no shame in letting yourself be taken care of once in a while, Teazer. Everyone needs it sometimes. No matter how silly or embarrassing it might seem," he added with a shake of his head, doubtless recalling how terribly helpless he'd felt being laid up in the infirmary.

"Mebbe…mebbe so. I've…nevva really known wot that's _like_ b'fore meetin' Miz Jenny an' Miz Jelly…it _is _rathah noice," she admitted. "On'y… Wot I _really _need more'n' anyfin'…is a job. Sommat t'do, someway to'elp, t'keep my min' offa…ev'rythin'…" After all, it wasn't as if Quaxo had given her much to do apart from starting 'the rumour' and 'helping with the Ball.' Might as well take some initiative…

Munkustrap watched her thoughtfully. "How are you with kittens?"

"Eh? Kits? Well, dunno, never wos much allowed near'em in th' ware'ouse…weren't part of me job, I was too young…" She grinned. "Well, I _did _distrac' Buckety from bein' scared whilst we wos waitin' fer the others durin' the escape…we played The Quiet Game, on'y you'ave t'make funny faces…"

"Why don't you play with the kits for a little while every day—say, after lunch? Jelly's busy with her little newkit, Etcetera, so I'm sure Jenny would be grateful for any extra help. I keep an eye on them in the mornings after my rounds, but _you _might be better at…well, playing. And," his eyes lit up hopefully, "if you wear them out, they might _actually_ take afternoon naps." He looked, Teazer noted, ridiculously excited at the prospect. That made her a bit nervous; just how much trouble _were _these kits? But she _had _asked for a job…

"Be'appy to," she found herself saying.

"Thanks, Teazer." The silver tabby gave her paw a friendly squeeze. "Well, I'll leave you to lunch with Jenny…" He turned to go, but Teazer stopped him.

"Abou'…Mack'n'Jerrie…"

"I don't blame you," Munkustrap said firmly. "And as I said, I'll not do anything rash." He let out a frustrated sigh. "Much as I hate it…once again…we'll have to wait and see."


	26. Chapter 26

"I wish you'd tried harder to make him believe it."

"An' I wish y'd stop _sayin' _that when it does no good!"

"Right. Sorry."

Quaxo and Rumpelteazer sat side by side, to all appearances sharing a friendly snack consisting of kitten chow, very possibly with some dogfood mixed in, topped off with a few sausages and bits of bacon some humans had thrown out. It was quite a rare treat really, apart from the dogfood, if they'd been in a mood to appreciate it. More accurately, what they were _really_ sharing was a grumbling spat, only picking at their food occasionally and otherwise scarcely remembering its existence. (Indeed, completely unobserved by both the 'magician' and the 'master thief,' every so often a tiny paw reached out from behind the junkpile and snatched a piece of food off the makeshift tray.) Both were burdened with rather more stress than is good for a young cat (or any cat of any age, come to that), and as such, their attempts at discussing the problem calmly weren't getting very far. They kept snapping at each other, apologizing, and then snapping again a few sentences later.

"We sh'ld let Munk in on the plan," Teazer suggested for the umpteenth time.

"I've told you," sighed Quaxo, "that it won't _work _if he knows. He shouldn't even have as much hope as he _does _have that his brother might come back; he should be resigned to the fact that Mack's gone for good…"

"Didja _really _think that'ud happen?"

"No," the tuxedo tom admitted, "but it was worth a go. Would've made things much simpler."

"Well, it didn't work. Tell the truf', _I _fink if Munk really b'lieved Mack meant never t'return, 'e'd go after'im an' try t'persuade 'im back, mos' likely gettin'imself kilt in the process an' ruinin' the'ole plan anyway. So uncertainty migh' even be bettah for'im. So _now_ wot? 'Ave yew'n Cori'n'Tanto been able to, er… 'spy' on…y'know, _them, _at all, an' figger out 'ow fings'r goin'?"

Quaxo shook his head glumly.

"Yew 'aven't seen er heard anyfin'?"

"No, I mean it's, erm…going…"

"It's goin' terrible an' we're all doomed, just say it."

"No, no, I wouldn't say the situation's quite _that _dire! Only I had hoped Mack would have gained himself a bit more…freedom by now and…well, managed to gain Griddle's trust."

"I coulda toldja 'e wouldn't! Like that'ud _ever _'appen! Mebbe y've not noticed, but Mack's just about the world's worst criminal! Yew expected 'im t'be a nat'ral?"

Quaxo shrugged his shoulders. "It was the only future we saw where the Junkyard is saved."

"Jus' a minute there," Teazer protested, holding up her paws in exasperation. _"Future?_ I thought yew an' Cori' an' Tant' c'ld only read thoughts'n'feelin's an' the like, an' make _guesses _about the future. Yew said _nuffin' _abou' actually _seein'_…"

"You're right," Quaxo sighed, "that wording's inaccurate. The humans around town watch quite a bit of television, and sometimes I seem to pick up very strange phrases out of nowhere. But what I mean is, Griddlebone _wants _Mack involved in her plan. She wants to turn the Jellicles against each other, to get to us—most particularly, to get Bella and Deuteronomy's sons—where it'll most hurt. Her forcing Mack to start a fire in Tugger's home was just a _taste_ of that. I thought that, in order for Mack to be involved in her plan, he'd have to have at least _partially _gained her trust. But maybe that's not it at all. Maybe she'll _expect_ him to betray her, and be ready to harm his family—or even everyone in the 'yard—as soon as he does. Or set him up so that he has no _choice _but to betray her—or even manage things so _he's _the one who inadvertently does the harming, as with the fire..."

_"Maybe? _Y'don't…know?"

"I know there are multiple awful things she'd _like_ to do, it's just a matter of which one."

"Well, we c'n rule out 'harm ev'ry'un in the yard at once.' Who c'ld kill a load o' cats all at once? Except some sorta magical mystical type like you?" She put a paw over her mouth, glancing sideways at Quaxo. "Oi…oi didn' mean…"

"It's true, if I ever chose to use my powers for evil I imagine I _could_ inflict a lot of damage. That's why I'm so hesitant to try anything with that blue lightning stuff, much as Sillabub keeps _begging _for a show…But there are natural ways too, Teaz. I'm surprised—"

"Yer _never _surprised."

"Figure of speech. Anyway, I'm not _constantly _in your head or anyone else's! With all the time you've spent in humans' houses and stores—thieving and such—haven't you heard of things like explosives? Fireworks? Dynamite?"

"Never wasted time lookin' aroun' much, 'cept fer wot we came there t'fetch," Teazer shrugged. "We wos expected t'get in an' out as quick as ever we could, an' if 't'weren't quick enough… Well, _smash'n'grab_, that wos allus the ticket. An' dy…dino-might wos never on our list o' supplies. If'n it's somefin' that dangerous, mebbe Lady Moth—Gr—the Lady didn't fancy me'n'Jerrie takin' charge o'such fings." She paused, nibbling fretfully at her lower lip, considering whether to ask, afraid of the answer. "So…so wot _is… _dino-might?"

"I've never actually seen it in action…"

"But you've _some _idear of what it does. Tell me."

"Well, it seems you tie a load of sticks together—they kind of look like candles—connect a long string to them, set fire to the string, run away as fast as you can. When the fire gets to the sticks, they—well—explode."

"Explode?"

"Like a forest fire, but worse. Boom. Fire and broken parts everywhere. And any living thing that gets too close at the time of the explosion…well, burns."

Teazer shivered. "Surely they's nuffin' like that 'round _'ere!" _

"Why d'you say that?"

"Well—b'cos'… If folk around'ere wan'ed to explode fings, why've we never seen anyfin' explodin' nearby? An' if they _don't _wanna explode fings, why'ud any'un bother tryin' t'sell the stuff?"

Quaxo shrugged his shoulders. "Well, perhaps they smuggled it, then. Didn't you say Grid was in league with these new henchcats who got rid of Growltiger for her? Maybe they've brought plentiful supplies with them. Maybe she's been planning this for ages. In any case, I feel certain she has _something _up her sleeve that she can rig up, maybe even rat poison in the food or something, to get rid of a bunch of felines at once—or humans, for that matter… And you know how Old D is about humans…"

"This's jus' awful," Teazer fretted.

"It _is _awful," Quaxo agreed, "but not _hopeless. _If I practice enough, perhaps I can make her disappear from _wherever _she is, even if we can't get her to the junkyard…"

Teazer felt considerably less confident in his abilities than she had a moment ago. "Y'fink ya can? Who's been 'elpin' yew rehearse, anyway?"

"Admetus."

Teazer raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"I've not told him what it's _for_, of course," Quaxo added, "except that it's a trick for the Ball, which is true enough."

"Quax'…where does'e…where d'fings…an' folks...actually _go… _when y'disappears 'em?"

"I'm not entirely certain, but I _think _they go where I imagine for them—I always try to imagine someplace nice: which, by the by, isn't so easy in a great polluted city like this. But once I can think of places _outside _the city—because, of course, it has to be a _real _place—I've got many more nice places to choose from. I've tried asking Adme what he sees when I send him 'elsewhere,' but he's not very forthcoming." He chuckled, but couldn't hide his look of concern. "He really _is_ in a bad way," he confided. "Sometimes it takes me a bit longer than I'd like to bring him back, and when I finally do, he makes some remark implying that he wouldn't care if he _never_ got back. And I get the feeling that it's not so much because he enjoyed wherever it was that I sent him, as because he'd prefer not to be…anywhere at all."

Teazer gasped. "Y'mean 'e's still no better after wot'appen'd… Bu' that's _awful," _she found herself saying again. "Oi don' understand why…why Adme's takin' it all to'eart so…or even just _wot _'e's takin' so much to'eart…"

Quaxo shook his head. "He feels betrayed."

"But I tried t'explain," Teazer objected, "that Vitie'ad no _choice…" _

"Not just about the fire," Quaxo interrupted, "it goes back _long_ before that. You see, they—Admetus and Plato—were found as tiny kits, and the junkyard is the only home they've known. Although Jenny and Skimble mainly raised them, they early on attached themselves to MacVitie and became more or less his little shadows. Followed him everywhere. He sometimes pretended to be annoyed by it, but you could tell he liked them—especially by how bent out of shape he'd get when any little thing happened to them. Well, one night he off and disappears—it was to save his mother from the henchcats, which turned into a long captivity, but they didn't understand that at the time. And no matter how much you or he or anyone else tries to explain, from Adme's perspective, all Mack has done for ages is disappear, come back and wreak havoc, and disappear again. He long ago concluded (whether he realized it or not) that Mack's unreliable. _Now _he's near to believing that Mack has changed sides, or perhaps was in league with the henches all along."

"Which would suit _yew _jus' fine," Teazer pointed out, unable to conceal the bitterness creeping into her tone.

Quaxo looked stricken. "Teazer, it's not that I _want…" _

"Righ', righ', y' don' really _want _folk believin' such arful fings about Mack, but it's needful fer the _plan_ t'work." She sniffed. "'Cept it don't seem t'be _workin'_ whether er no."

"Teazer…"

"Well, _tell _me straight, then! _Is_ this plan o'yers still gonna work, or _isn't_ it? An' if no, what'll we do instead? Yew _'ave _got another plan?"

"It's…not going quite as I expected so far," Quaxo proceeded cautiously, "but…for all I can see, Griddle will still be where she needs to be at the proper time…"

"Y'mean fer…" Teazer glanced around and lowered her voice. "Fer yew t'…t'disappear her?"

Quaxo nodded.

"Where…Where'll yew send'er?"

"I'll…try to send her…someplace nice…but far, far from here where she can't do anymore harm. Some island, perhaps."

"Wot…wot's an Eye Land?"

"A bit of land in the middle of the ocean. Plenty of food and water, but no people for her to harm and no easy way to get back, unless she can swim for miles—or has hidden wings."

Teazer's eyes narrowed, and she didn't laugh at his small joke. "An' Vitie? An' Jerrie? Where'll _they _be by then?"

"That's…less certain."

"What d'yew _mean? _'Less certain' ain' good enough! Wot's the good'f _any _o' this plannin' if sommat 'appens _t'them?_ Quax—"

"I didn't _say _anything was going to happen to them," Quaxo cut in quickly. "Just that…"

"Jus' that y've no idear whether it will er _not_, which is jus' as bad."

_"Listen. _Please. As long as they've the potential to be of any use to her, the Lady'll keep them alive. Am I right?"

Teazer nodded sullenly.

"Well, then," Quaxo continued, "she's certainly not going to get rid of them before she's carried out—_attempted _to carry out, but been stopped—her grand plan. She'll either force them to take part in it directly, or, if she still doesn't trust them, she'll simply hold onto them as some sort of hostages—use them to manipulate _us, _or vice versa. But all this will go away once I get rid of _her. _And if I can rightly figure out where she'll be, and get near enough in time…" He shrugged. "There goes Mack and Jerrie's chief captor. Oh, I know," he added, as Teazer opened her mouth to object, "there're still the henches. But once _she's _gone, how difficult can _they _be? The henches rely too heavily on her to carry out the plan on their own, at least right away."

"Ay…once she's…gone," Teazer echoed with a shudder. "But… Oi! Stoppit righ' there!" The tiny paw had come groping at the tray of food again, and this time its owner hadn't been _quite _quick enough. Teazer seized the paw and pulled the rest of whoever-it-was out from behind the junkpile. "Buck'tee," she exclaimed when she caught sight of the scowling face, "jus' wotchew fink yer _doin'?" _

"Listenin' to _you _of course," Carbuckety shrugged shamelessly, "an' just tryin' to have a little snack! Why stop me? _You _two weren't eating it."

"B'cause, Buck', 'tis bad manners t'steal an' scoff vittles off'n some'un else's plate, no mattah…"

"Ha, that's a funny! Teazy the Thief talkin' about not stealin' offa someone's plate!" chortled the patched kitten.

"Now, Bucky…"

"Oh, let him have it," sighed Quaxo. "He's right; _we're _not eating it." Awaiting no further invitation, Carbuckety commenced stuffing his face with the remainder of the vittles. "Now," Quaxo went on, sending Teazer a meaningful look, "while you're here, Carbuckety, why not explain what you were doing listening in and just how much you heard?"

"'Nuff to know that you're in big trouble," mumbled the kit around a mouthful of sausage, not bothering to finish chewing and swallowing first.

"I see," nodded Quaxo, "and how about _why _you were listening?"

"'Cause I'm a spy, of course," Carbuckety rolled his eyes as if it should have been obvious.

"That so? First _I've _heard of any such thing."

Carbuckety grinned triumphantly. "That means I'm a _good _spy."

"And tell me, Carbuckety, just how _long _have you been a spy?"

"Since forever."

"You mean even before you came to live here?" Quaxo asked, though in truth not expecting the kit to remember anything before the Junkyard. Or perhaps _hoping _he didn't.

"Oh, _long _before that," Carbuckety scoffed. "I been spyin' on devil daddy since I was just a baby."

"Devil daddy…?" Teazer broke in, looking alarmed. Quaxo shot her another warning glance, trying to convey that panicking now might lose them the chance at procuring some valuable information—even if not entirely accurate. Quaxo certainly didn't see any indication that Carbuckety was lying, but kittens could easily get confused. _Or else they could be completely spot-on without even realizing it. One never knew with kittens._ Teazer glared right back at Quaxo, more concerned at the moment for the kit's wellbeing than for information, but she held her tongue for now. See what more Bucky would say.

"And just who's 'devil daddy'?" Quaxo resumed.

"Don't know _anything, _do you?" Carbuckety rolled his eyes, evidently his favorite gesture at the moment. "How d'you expect to get anything _done_ that way?"

Quaxo's ears flattened ever so slightly in annoyance. "Right, then, since we don't seem to know anything, and _you _seem to know everything, you'll have to help us out, won't you?"

"Don't _have _to do nothin'," Bucky muttered rebelliously. He folded his arms and stuck out his chin smugly. Quaxo waited, knowing that bit was for show and if the kit really _did _know anything, he wouldn't be able to resist demonstrating his superior knowledge. "Devil daddy's TB," Carbuckety continued at last.

Quaxo frowned, trying to think who this might be.

"Tumblebrutus," Teazer supplied, "orften goes by TB."

"Tumblebrutus?" Quaxo echoed, becoming disappointed. Carbuckety must only be playing after all. "Bucky, why would you spy on one of your own friends? And call him a name like…devil daddy?"

"Don't be so thick," sighed Carbuckety, "I don't mean _that _Tumble."

"But…"

"There's an 'ench called Tumble," Teazer explained. "A very important 'ench, actually." The fact that Quaxo didn't seem to already know about TB caused Teazer alarm. Could the twins, or Quaxo, or both…could they not "see" TB for some reason?

But now realization seemed to register on Quaxo's features, and he nodded. "I see. _That _Tumble. Cori and Tanto and I have had glimpses of him, he's one of the chief guards…" But he stopped short of actually mentioning Mack's name, not wanting to give too much away until he actually _knew _how much Carbuckety had heard. "So…" He was about to move on in the conversation, but Bucky interrupted him and continued in the same vein.

"Our Tumble's _named_ after TB," he commented, running his paw along the platter for any remnants.

"That's true," Teazer agreed gently, wondering just how much the kit knew. "But see, it's complica'ed, Bucky. ''Lonza didn't stay in th' ware'ouse long 'nuff t'know which tom was TB, nor just'ow bad'e was. Act'lly…per'aps 'e didn't know TB was an'ench at all…an' so didn't fink it'd be a bad name t'give 'is kit. Y'needn't 'old it against yer friend, ain't'is fault."

"I don't," Carbuckety shrugged. "Can't help it, can he. Like _I _can't help that TB's my dad. Dunno who my mum is, can't remember, but I don't care, s'not the point…"

"Bucky," Quaxo interrupted, "who's been telling you such a fib?" Now it was Rumpelteazer's turn to shoot _Quaxo_ a warning look. The tuxedo tom really _was _simple sometimes, wasn't he? She already more than half-believed Carbuckety; most likely his father _was_ someone among the henchcats, and chances were it was TB. Could Quaxo not sense any of this? It was alarming…

"It's not a fib," Bucky returned angrily, "but if _you _won't believe me, maybe Mister Munk will…"

"Wait, Buck'," Teazer seized his paw as he turned to leave, "we _do _believe'ee, it's just such a surprise 'cause we didn' know!"

"But how do_ you_ know?" asked Quaxo.

"I _heard _it," said the kit shortly, still miffed with them.

"From whom?"

"From Miss Bomba and Miss Deme. Who else?"

Quaxo's eyes widened. "Surely _they _wouldn't say such things to you…"

"Please," Carbuckety scoffed, "I don't mean they told me on _purpose. _Weren't you listening? Didn't I _say _I was the Greatest Spy Ever? They were telling each _other, _an' I just went right behind 'em where they couldn't see me an' heard the whole thing. They had no _idea _I was there," he added, grinning cheekily.

"An'," Teazer put in timidly, "an' wot else did they say?" Perhaps they had also mentioned his mother, whom Teazer was fairly well convinced was either Bomba or Demeter. It fitted in with how things ran in the warehouse, how the two queens had most likely been treated.

"Dunno," Bucky sniffed, "maybe I _won't _tell you, on second thoughts. Where's the use? You'll not believe me!"

"Bucky…" But the tomkit had already vaulted over the pile of junk and disappeared from view.


	27. Chapter 27

"What _was _tha'?" Teazer muttered. "Now as if we didn't 'ave _enough _goin' on, the kits've taken up _spyin'_…y'don't s'pose…Bucky's been back to the ware'ouse…recently?" The thought was unnerving. But if he _had…_well, he was here and alive and well, wasn't he? Perhaps his claims of being a good spy _weren't _mere boasting…

Quaxo was staring after the kit, a look of intense concentration on his face. "He's not some innocent kit just playing a game, Teazer. He's not just running around spying on people for the _fun _of it. He's angry with someone, wants to hurt them, but the question is just _who?"_

"'is dad," Teazer supplied almost immediately. _Who else?_ If he truly knew who his father was, _and _knew what he was really like, why _wouldn't_ he be upset? Unlike Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer, Bucky hadn't spent his entire kittenhood in the warehouse. At his still-young-and-impressionable age, he'd already had ample opportunity to experience samplings of the completely different lives of the henches and the Jellicles, and to know, even if he didn't fully understand _everything, _that TB was a bad sort. Could it be he even somehow knew the tom was Alonzo's father as well? That he had used his high-up position in Growltiger and Griddlebone's gang to mistreat countless queens, most likely including Bombalurina and Demeter?

"So you believe him then?"

"Ay, don't yew?"

"I suppose…" He shook his head, frutstrated. "When I think of that tom…TB…things become fuzzy. He seems…unknowable."

"Well, Oi s'pose 'e is in some ways, but… Quax. Did'ye ever considah…tha'…among the Lady's 'enchcats...well, wot'f _they've_ got some'un like…well, like yew er Cori an' Tanto?"

"They have," responded a voice behind them.

Teazer gave a slight jump. No matter how much time she spent in the Junkyard, she could never get used to the way Coricopat and Tantomile crept up on one. "Seems _ev'ry'un_ in the Yahd's been listenin' in," she sighed. "Not that yew two _needs _t'listen, ye'll know it all any'ow, eh?" She was utterly done with this entire situation. First their plan seemed about to fall to pieces, then Carbuckety showed up acting strange, _then _the twins turned up…

"Coricopat," said Quaxo, trying to quell his frustration, "what's going on? More particularly, what's going on with _him, _why is he so angry?" He broke off suddenly, and the two toms stood silently staring at one another for the next several moments.

Gathering that Coricopat and Quaxo were continuing their conversation _telepathically _(though Teazer didn't know that word and merely thought "in their'eads"), she made an impatient gesture and turned to Tantomile. "Oi can' communicate like _that," _indicating the two toms, "so can y'please tell me wot Bucky's on about? An'… I reckon you'll know this… is'e right? _Is _TB'is dad as well as 'Lonz's?"

"You already know the answer to that," said Tantomile.

Teazer was tempted to snap back at the other queen that she "knew no such thing, stop talkin' in riddles and tell me straight!", but checked herself. After all, perhaps Tantomile was right—perhaps deep down Teazer _did _already know. It did seem to fit in with what Teazer knew of Tumblebrutus—what _little _she knew of him. Like everyone else, she'd always been terrified of him and her one thought was to avoid his wrath. As such, she'd never sought him out on purpose. Growltiger had always referred to TB as his 'bo'sun.' No one was sure what the word actually meant, but Teazer gathered it meant something along the lines of 'second-in-command.' He'd certainly always lorded it over the other henches and acted as if he were in charge when the boss wasn't around. It would make sense if he behaved that way with _everyone_ in the gang, most particularly those who weren't there by choice, and took full advantage of the situation, whatever the particular duties of a particular gang-member might be… Teazer shivered, unwilling to follow that line of thought any further. "Ay," she admitted, "s'pose I do. Wouldn' put it past TB to'ave all _manner_ of unclaimed kits."

"After all," Tantomile pointed out with a slight grimace—to Teazer's knowledge, the first time she had ever seen the queen appear more than mildly bothered about anything, "are not _all _the kittens in…that place…unclaimed?"

"Ay—well—nat'rally," Teazer blustered somewhat, for some inexplicable reason feeling inclined to defend her previous home. "Me'n'Jerrie nevah knew exac'ly fer sure 'oo our parents were, anymore'n any o' the othahs. There was no _this is my mate _an' _these're my kits, _that way ev'ry'un was treated the same, no special fav'rites, no fights over—well, 'twas the idear at any rate, but o'course fights're unavoidable… But in any case, they's a gang bent on the practical, on survival…"

"But not happiness. Not family."

"N-no. That…nevah came into it. I'ad some fun times o'course, specially since I'ad Jerrie, but…wouldn't've called it an'appy fam'ly, no' like…well, like'ere… But now," she continued, coming back to the discussion at paw, "the main trouble'ere is the _survival _bit. I'm a bit anxious on that score, I don't min' admittin' to ya. _Is _there somecat wot's fightin' back against yew an' Cori an' Quax's…efforts t'…t' 'see' wot's goin' on? An' c'n you tell me wot Bucky'as t'do wif it, if anythin'?" She felt almost afraid of the answer.

"I can," Tantomile sighed, "but…it will be…difficult."

"'Ow so?"

The black-and-white queen gave a slight, nervous laugh. "It may not have escaped your notice that my brother and I are not much accustomed to speaking out loud."

"No," mumbled Teazer, "y'prefers t'be all mystery-like…" Then she regretted saying this, worried Tantomile might take offence and decide not to tell her anything. But the other queen only nodded.

"It's not…that we _prefer _it…but it's been what we are used to. Each knowing what the other wants or needs just by a look, making others understand well enough by gestures and only a few words when necessary."

"Bu'…this's important enough t'…t' make the effort an' tell me, even if'tis difficult?"

"Of course. Just please be patient as I think of how to explain…"

"C'ld ya…" Teazer swallowed, embarrassed. _"Could_ y'tell me the way yew an' Cori tells each othah fings? Even'f _I _dunno wot I'm doin'? Th' way'e's tellin' Quaxo fings—?"

_"No," _the other queen hissed, surprising Teazer with her vehemence. Shaking her head as if to calm herself, Tantomile went on in a milder tone, "I could, but I won't. I know sometimes…it's necessary to 'mind meld' with others, as Quaxo calls it…"

"Prob'ly 'eard it on the telly," Teazer giggled, nerves getting the better of her and making everything seem silly.

"But I don't _like _to do it," Tantomile continued, ignoring Teazer's comment. "Not with those who don't share the same abilities as Coricopat and myself, or at least similar ones like Quaxo's. Not with those who have no say in the matter. It seems unfair—an invasion into their most private thoughts when they can't prevent it or delve into _our _thoughts in return. I can't help getting at least _some _sense of most anycat's mindset just by being near them, but actively delving into the hidden recesses of the mind is another thing entirely. I only do so when it is necessary—a matter of life and death."

"Like the situation wif…the Lady."

"Yes, unfortunately. Even so, I mainly get my information second paw through Coricopat or…"

"Seems t'me this _is _such an, er…life-er-death situation. But if'n y' say so…Well then," Teazer sighed, "s'pose y'just tells me in plain words."

"I'm just about to, if you'll pay attention. You asked what Carbuckety has to do with any of this. Well, he is one of our sources of information—because he knows the Lady's territory well, some of what goes on there makes more sense to him than it ever could to any of us…"

"'Old th'phone," Teazer gasped, "y'mean all that stuff'e wos sayin', goin' on an' on 'bout bein' a spy—it's not jus' silliness, 'e's _really_—why, Bucky's just a little kit an' yer _usin' _'im!"

"Don't talk nonsense," Tanto sighed, "he's been spying on the henchcats for as long as he could understand anything. And he's continued to do so—only now he's helping _us, _at least in theory, though his main reasons may be anger and spite, and who can blame him? Still…"

"So 'e's been strikin' out on'is own fer ages an' no'un's stopped'im?"

"He's surprisingly stealthy—probably learned _that_ in the warehouse as well, wouldn't you say?"

"Ay," Teazer admitted, "avoidin' notice's the best way of avoidin' punishment." She paused. "But _yew _knew?"

"We have known for some time he was up to _something, _but only recently learnt what. His thoughts are quite chaotic, difficult to understand."

"Well, nat'rally. Poor fing's just a kit. Speakin' of bein' just a kit, why didn't yew stop'im oncet yew knew?"

"How?" Tantomile sighed. "Lock him up? In any case, now that we know, we follow him, should he ever need our assistance. So far he never has."

"An'…does'e know? That y'foller'im?"

"He does," Tantomile chuckled slightly, "but pretends not to. Since we've not interfered, he's not changed his patterns much."

Teazer took several deep breaths, trying to keep from panicking as she considered all that Tantomile was telling her. "Bu' Tanto…even s'posin' Buck _is _as sneaky-like as'e finks'e is… Why not stop'im any'ow? Is it truly…worf the risk?"

"I've had some of the same doubts, myself. But, Teazer, we've not been able to 'see' matters in the warehouse as clearly as we'd hoped." Teazer felt on the verge of vomiting at that; it was what she'd feared. Was all lost then? "As Coricopat said a moment ago," Tantomile went on, "there _is _someone among the henchcats with…abilities…similar to ours. Exactly _what _or _how extensive _they are, we don't know. But when Coricopat attempts to understand how it goes with our friends…something, some barrier stops him."

"Bu'…tha' means…some'un knows wot we're about?" Tantomile nodded assent. "An' do…" Teazer gulped. "D'ye know…'oo 'tis?"

Tantomile answered readily enough, "Gilbert. Or Genghis, as you may know him."

"'E's the one wot's in charge o' punishments an' confinements an' such," Teazer gasped. Unbidden, frightening memories arose in her mind: _she was a tiny kit again, locked in some dark room, nearly mad with hunger and thirst, not knowing if she'd ever see her brother again. "Le' me out," she begged feebly, her voice barely a croak. "I'll not do't again…Jerrie, where are yew?" _Willing the images away with a shudder, she glanced up to see a grimace of pain flit momentarily across Tantomile's face before she was once again able to relax her features. The mystic queen must have felt something of those memories, in spite of herself… "'M sorry," Teazer mumbled. "I…I wos goin' on t'say, I…fink…Genghis...Gilbit may've'ad sommat t'do wif…wif the Tigah's demise. Mackey fought—finks so too. A' first we fought'e migh' some'ow be turnin' good, er at least away fr'm the'enches, but…bu' more likely 'e just'as ambitions t'be leader one day."

"Perhaps MacVitie had no opportunity to tell you," said Tantomile, having composed herself whilst Teazer spoke, though her voice still held a hint of some emotion Teazer couldn't identify, "but…Gilbert, as he was known to us…has a history with the Jellicles as well. He was one of our protectors. He went out with Deuteronomy and the rest to settle a dispute with the henchcats. His mate, Hecuba, was killed, and he never returned. Everyone assumed he had been killed as well; his daughter Cassandra was raised among us as an orphan."

"On'y 'e _wasn't_ kilt," Teazer gasped, "'e stayed on wif the Tigah…Bu'…why?"

"Desperation," Tantomile told her. "The companion of his life had been taken from him, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. Later, he no doubt thought of his daughter…but decided she would be better off not knowing him at all." The black and white queen shook her head sadly. "How easily…it's so easy, isn't it, for a cat to decide he's gone too far, that he's past forgiveness?"

"Ay," Teazer agreed, thinking uneasily of MacVitie and hoping such a thing had not happened to him. "But I own I…feels sorry fer…fer Geng—Gilbert, an' yet…I can't quite fergive'im meself. No' jus' yet." She shook her head. "Bu' back t'the matter at paw, 'e's workin' against us, keepin' yew an' Cori blind. 'Ow c'n lettin' Bucky carry on spyin' be of'elp?"

"Because he can observe with his bodily eyes what Coricopat and I cannot see with our mind's eyes."

"Bu'…supposin' Gilb'…notices an'…"

"This is why we follow Carbuckety. Thus far Gilbert appears to be busy keeping _us _out. But he hasn't appeared to suspect the kit." In spite of herself, the corner of Tantomile's mouth lifted in the slightest hint of a smirk. "After all, who _would _suspect a kitten?"


	28. Chapter 28

Somecat was poking him repeatedly in the nose. _Poke, poke, poke… _

"Gettoff," mumbled MacVitie.

"Maybe if you open your eyes first," answered a saucy young voice—one he didn't seem to recognize.

MacVitie's eyes snapped open. "What—who—what are you doing," he sputtered, confused as to where he was. The face of the tomkitten in front of him did not do much to clarify matters.

"So you've forgot me already," sniffed the kit. "Figures."

The faces of the Jellicle kittens rolled through his mind. "Tumble…" Slowly, MacVitie sat up, seeing the bars of his cage and remembering where he was. "What in Heaviside are you _doing _here?"

"Catnip," the kit rolled his eyes, "I'm _Carbuckety, _thickhead!"

"What—Carb—but you couldn't even _talk _last time I saw you…"

"Who says I couldn't? _Didn't, _maybe, because it would've blown my cover!"

"Cover? What are you talking about? And what are you _doing _here?" Mack repeated, that last coming out in a hiss as he lowered his voice. "However you got in here, get back to where you came from! D'you think we saved you from this place just so you could come racing back and get yourself kitnapped again? Don't you _know _it's dangerous—?"

"'Course I know it's dangerous. I know more about the dangers than _you, _probably. But never mind that, there's no time. Look, I'm just here to tell you today's the day. Be ready."

"Ready for _what? What _day? No one's told me any—hey!" Carbuckety was already sneaking back out of the den. "What am I supposed to _do?" _

"Whatever you're _told," _Buck hissed over his shoulder before disappearing from view.

"Catnip," MacVitie muttered. Somehow Carbuckety must have wandered off on his own and thought he was going to play hero or something. There was no way he was getting out of here without being caught… _Do as you're told? _What was _that _supposed to mean, anyway? And…what was "today"?

He glanced towards the den door. He couldn't tell what time of day it was, but it was definitely light outside—which meant he wouldn't be getting out for at least a few more hours. But…where was TB? Not once since this latest "stay" in Hench territory had he found himself unguarded. Of course, it could be that till now he'd always slept through the guards' shift-changes… Was there even a guard outside now? How had Carbuckety got past…?

It dawned on him that this must be something to do with Quaxo's plan. Except he didn't _know _the plan. Was he meant to have heard something? _Who _was meant to be giving him instructions? If Quaxo or one of the Twins, they were doing a poor job of it. Maybe they'd tried (and failed) to contact him mentally. "Bad connection," Mack muttered irritably, thinking of a phrase Tugger liked to use when he didn't feel like listening to whatever you were saying. Something to do with humans and a thing they had called "telegraphs" or "phonograms" or something…

"Right, Napkit, up an' at'em!"

MacVitie looked up, startled, to see TB reaching down to undo the bolt on the cage. "Since when am I allowed outside during the day?"

"I take it ye've forgot _what _day it is, then?"

"How _should _I know, stuck in here? Well, what day is it—your birthday? Excuse me forgetting. Happy returns."

"No more o'yer cheek. You've a job to do, an' you'd best mind what she says or things may not go so well for you or yer little friends."

"I haven't _got _friends, remember?"

"We'll see." TB jerked his head to indicate that MacVitie should follow, then headed out of the den.

Outside, Mack blinked incessantly, his eyes taking a while to adjust to the light after weeks of only being allowed outside at night. The first feline his eyes focused on was Griddlebone.

"Morning, sunshine," grinned the henchqueen. "Time to prove your loyalty. Welcome to the longest day of the year."

_Longest day of the year? _MacVitie racked his brains for the significance of Griddlebone's words. _Longest day of the year?—Summer solstice—Midsummer's_—Why, tonight then was the Jellicle Ball! Could it be so much time had passed already? MacVitie's heart seemed to leap up into his throat. He wasn't ready. What was he meant to do? What _could_ he do? Neither the twins nor Quaxo had told him anything since they'd last seen one another! Where was Mungojerrie? Had they perhaps reached out to _him?_

"The time has come to prove where your true allegiance lies," Griddlebone repeated. "I trust you've had ample time to consider matters. Else things could go very badly for..."

"Where is he?" demanded a voice, cutting her off.

A stunned silence followed as all the felines in the vicinity turned to seek out the source of the interruption. _No _one ever dared to interrupt The Lady Griddlebone. Only Growltiger had ever appeared to stand on equal footing with her…and he was gone.

MacVitie, too, turned to look, and at first did not believe the evidence of his own senses. He saw Mungojerrie had arrived—unsurprising. No doubt he too had been summoned to 'prove his loyalty,' whatever that would entail. But with him, struggling to loose her arm from the tiger tom's grasp and repulsing his feeble attempts to reason with her, was Demeter. "Where is he?" she repeated, evidently beyond caring about any potential consequences to herself. "Where's Carbuckety? I _know_ you've got him here! Do what you like with me, but let him go! He's nothing to you, is he? Why not just let him roam free, he's not done anything to you!"

"Miz Deme," Mungojerrie was pleading, albeit in a low voice, still terrified enough of Griddlebone that he didn't wish to draw attention to himself, "please jus' stop a bit an' let'er Ladyship speak. I don't want yew 'urt..."

"It's too late for that, Jerrie," Demeter answered in a surprisingly calmer tone. "We're here, aren't we? _We're_ all going to be hurt, but Carbuckety doesn't have to be, not if we can..."

_"I_ don't know any Carbuckety," Griddlebone yawned, feigning boredom. "If you mean that little baggage that was born too early and likely always to be a runt, no doubt he's at the bottom of the Thames long since."

_He's with us_. MacVitie looked around, startled, certain he'd heard Coricopat's voice. But no one was there. At last it occurred to him that Coricopat must have managed to contact him mentally. At least for a brief moment. Why then couldn't the twins have also informed him what to do next? Well, at least it seemed Carbuckety had made good his getaway and was safe. For now.

He tried to give Demeter a meaningful look, hoping she could somehow understand that her fears for the kit were unfounded—but she had her gaze fixed on Griddlebone, as if trying to discern whether the other queen were lying about Carbuckety's fate.

Griddlebone, however, did notice. "And just what are _you_ on about, eh? Genghis."

Gilbert stepped forward, gazing scrutinizingly at MacVitie. What was this...?

"_He's with us_, eh?" the tom chuckled after a moment. "Who's with _whom, _Napoleon?"

Then MacVitie understood. Somehow, Gilbert possessed similar mental powers to the twins'. Perhaps that was why Mack had heard nothing…because Gilbert knew of their connection, and was interfering. Did that mean he also knew of their plans…? _Save me from all these wacked mystical felines..._ "Nothing," he answered, doing his utmost to keep his mind blank. "No one. I don't know."

Griddlebone shook her head with a sigh, meanwhile making her way over to Demeter. "I don't take kindly to liars." Deliberately, she placed her paw on Demeter's arm and drove a single claw into her flesh, eliciting a shriek from the gold queen.

Mungojerrie had crumpled uselessly to the floor, his paws over his ears.

MacVitie let out an enraged snarl and made as if to leap for Griddlebone, but was knocked down to the floor by TB, who placed a footpaw on his chest and gazed down at the ginger tom with a sneer. "And you _don't have friends_ nor _care anything_ for the pathetic Jellicles. Right."

"Demeter..." MacVitie choked. To his—and TB's—surprise, a moment later Demeter was kneeling at his side. Jerrie had of course lost his grip on her when he fell, Griddlebone had released her, and strangely no one else had tried to interfere.

"MacVitie," Demeter whispered, half holding out her paw but then drawing it back, whether from fear of TB or fear of him, MacVitie couldn't tell. The last time they had been together, she had scarcely been able to look at him.

"I'll get us out of this," he mumbled.

"Yes," Demeter nodded, then looked away. She didn't believe him.

"Thought the Lady made it clear she don't care for liars," TB chuckled.

"Leave us," Griddlebone snapped suddenly. "But," she added, "don't go far, Genghis. I may have need of you."

Almost instantly, the area cleared of all felines apart from Griddlebone, Mungojerrie, MacVitie, and Demeter.

"Get up," Griddlebone spat contemptuously, kicking Mungojerrie, who still lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Fear drove him to obey, and he stood shakily to his paws. Relieved of the pressure from TB's footpaw, MacVitie stood as well. He held out his paw to Demeter, and, after a moment's hesitation, she allowed him to help her up.

"Now that I've got your attention," Griddlebone continued, "I trust you are all prepared to listen." She glanced round at all of the younger felines, who nodded—as if they had any choice. "I trust you know also that your lives and the lives of your dear little cat companions depend on your carrying out my instructions to the very letter. On the other paw, if you _do_ carry out my instructions, your lives _will _be safe and all will even go quite well with you. I'm a reasonable feline. I don't wish to keep up a useless quarrel between our two tribes. There is but one thing I require—or, say rather, one particular _feline—_and once you've handed him over, you may go your merry way and need never hear from me again."


	29. Chapter 29

"Never," Demeter growled.

"Keep your voice down," Mack pleaded. "If they hear you…"

"I don't care! I don't care if they know. I'm not going along with…"

"Even supposing you don't care what they do to _you, _what about Carbuckety? What about Bombalurina? Everyone else?"

Demeter hesitated. "But we can't…we _can't _trade Old D's life for theirs," she insisted, lowering her voice.

"Of course not, but we've got to _appear _to do as they…"

"Like you _appeared _to join the henchcats? _That _went well…"

"So," Mungojerrie cut in loudly, "yew two remembahs the'structions, yeah?" The other two jumped slightly; they'd almost forgot the tiger tom was there. They paused and turned to look at him. He winked and pulled meaningful faces, reminding them to _mind what they said, no doubt they were being watched._

"Yeah," Mack answered at the same volume, "we remember, _squealer." _It wouldn't do to seem to be getting on _too _well with Mungojerrie, given that he was meant to be fully loyal to Griddlebone and the main reason they'd been roped into her scheme. Truth be told, Mack was only half-acting. Would they have _been_ in this situation if Jerrie and Quaxo hadn't insisted on the 'under-cover' route? Or even if they hadn't taken Jerrie and Teazer out of the warehouse to begin with?

"Yes, we know," Demeter added, also playing along. _"You _certainly showed where your true loyalties lay. Never really _changed_ them, did you? Even after all we did for you…"

Jerrie gulped, appearing hurt despite the fact he more or less understood what the other two were about. "W-well, wot c'n yew expect? A cat's gotta survive, an' 'scuse me, but the Lady's gang is better at survival. Yer folks is too soft. I on'y regret I can' get Teazah t'see it that way. Yew Jellicles've man—manip—messed wif'er min' an' no mistake, an' now she'll suffah for it." This last sentence ended in a whimper.

Mack's lip curled up contemptuously; he couldn't help it. Jerrie was afraid of his own shadow—hadn't even tried to stop Griddle hurting Demeter. He couldn't bring himself to say anything reassuring to the younger tom, but merely shrugged and carried on walking.

Demeter was kinder. "Teazer doesn't _have _to suffer for it," she told Jerrie as the two followed MacVitie. "As soon as you've done your part, you two can return and throw yourselves on the Lady's mercy." She added coldly, "And good luck to you. I hope you'll be very happy." She caught up with MacVitie and hissed into his ear, "If you make us go through with this I'll never forgive you."

"I'll not _make_ you do anything," Mack returned, mumbling out of the side of his mouth whilst staring straight ahead. "If you don't wish to play your role, all well and good. For my part, I intend to follow her instructions as best I can. _Demeter," _he added, as the queen began to turn away in disgust, "I've not told you, but…" He shot Jerrie a meaningful look over his shoulder. Dutifully, the other tom began whistling loudly. _Probably sounds suspicious as all get-out…but just so long as 'they' don't hear our conversations and_ do see_ us taking the proper actions, they won't do anything…hopefully... _"I've not told you," he whispered, "but Quaxo has a plan…"

_"What _plan?"

"I…don't know…he and the twins were meant to contact me, but…"

"Vitie," Demeter sighed, "no doubt the plan is _ruined _by this new development. No doubt _She _found out. We can't depend on…"

"But I _am," _he insisted, "I'm counting on Quaxo to come through at just the right moment, and—and if he doesn't…I'll think of something myself…"

"Haven't you learned by now that you can't do _everything _on your own? You always try to fix things, but you can't, because you won't seek anyone's help…"

"But this time I _do _have help. And—if you like—give Munk and Tugger some…hint, to be on the ready to…well, hold off any henches, or…"

Demeter shook her head again. "How will this ever work?"

"It probably won't. But it's our only chance."


	30. Chapter 30

_"Jellicle Cats are black and white," _sang the Jellicles. _"Jellicle Cats, as we said, are small…" _

Munkustrap looked on, unable to avoid cracking a smile at the antics of Quaxo and the kittens. The tuxedo tom was meant to be leading the little ones in a short Kittens' Routine in honor of their first Ball, only the youngest, Etcetera, had fallen and bumped her nose and taken up a tremendous wail. Quaxo had gone into something of a "clown routine" rather than the planned one, with ridiculous poses and faces. Etcetera had quickly cheered up, and now she and the others were attempting to improvise something completely different. Meanwhile Carbuckety was doing random leaps and skips around the group, shamelessly flaunting the fact that he'd not made it to a single rehearsal.

But at least Carbuckety was _here. _Since being brought to the Junkyard, he'd been rather a cause of stress for all the adults. He was rarely content simply to play with the other kittens. On more than one occasion he'd seemed to inexplicably disappear for hours at a time. When Munkustrap attempted (as casually as he could) to question him, the kit simply muttered things about "just hiding behind junkpiles." Munkustrap highly doubted that, but feared pressing the matter too much—suppose Carbuckety were driven to run away back to the henchcats? And perhaps whatever he had been through in the warehouse made him naturally inclined to be a bit of a loner. But _something _had to be done about that kit before he became uncontrollable, Munk reflected. To make matters worse, Demeter had even approached him and confided that she was at a bit of a loss when it came to the kit; she could barely get Bucky to stop and speak to her for a few moments at a time, he was always running off on his own and closed-mouthed about what he did with his time. Munkustrap hadn't had the heart to tell her he had no more idea than she had; instead he'd spouted vague things such as _he's just being a typical young and wild tomkit _and gave tentative advice (probably unhelpful) based on how Old D had dealt with Munk and his brothers.

What stuck in Munkustrap's mind was the fact that Demeter had confided in him at _all. _Since returning from the warehouse, the gold queen had been closed off to nearly everyone apart from her sister. Was speaking to him a sign she was at last getting better, or was she simply so concerned for Carbuckety that desperation had driven her to speak to him?—And, come to that, _why _him? _You understand kits so well, _she'd said. Well, he didn't know about that, but he was certainly at a loss when it came to _this _kit.

He'd forced himself not to ask her why _she_ took such an interest in the kit. The obvious answer, of course, was probably the correct one—but only Demeter, and he supposed Bombalurina, knew for certain. He wished one or the both of them would own up to the truth. He hated to think what that truth would mean, but at least then he could stop wondering. Besides, it was unfair to Carbuckety…

Munkustrap shook himself to keep from lapsing into dangerous thoughts. He wasn't involved in the current dance—he was sitting with Old Deuteronomy on the Tire, keeping an eye on the group—but he mustn't get distracted. He still could hardly believe they'd even gone through with the Ball this year. More important than the dance itself was ensuring no one ran off alone and that no suspicious characters were allowed into the Junkyard unchecked. Alonzo and Peter were at the front gates, keeping watch on the streets. Tugger and Skimbleshanks were at the back. (Munkustrap had expected Tugger to object to missing a good bit of the Ball, but the older tom had agreed without a murmur.) And he, Munkustrap, was keeping close to the rest of the Jellicles, making sure all was as it should be. Not having a million eyes, and so of course unable to watch every single cat every single moment, he had Jennyanydots and Jellylorum helping to make sure all the younger cats stayed where they were supposed to. Every so often, Munk cast a scrutinizing—almost suspicious—glance between Quaxo and the twins. They had some plan, he was sure of it. And it involved Mungojerrie and MacVitie, whom he still didn't for a minute believe had truly joined the henches. Jerrie, perhaps, could be enticed back into Griddlebone's minions; Mackey, never. And now Demeter had warned him of…something, she didn't know what, but _something _was certain to happen tonight. When Munk asked for more details, she only vaguely said it was 'just a feeling.' Much as he would have liked to, he didn't press her for answers; but he was determined to be prepared. He sincerely regretted allowing Teazer to persuade him that Quaxo, the twins, MacVitie, and Jerrie ought to be left alone and allowed to pursue their plan with no interference. Only fear of causing harm to MacVitie had kept him from madly rushing on the warehouse and confronting Griddlebone himself.

"Peace, my son," murmured his father, beside him. Munkustrap gave a start; he hadn't realized how clearly he was allowing his tensions and worries to show. "Protect our family, but do not allow dark thoughts to rob you of the joy of living. Bad things may happen at any moment, but to let them envelop you and allow the fear of them to obliterate the good—this will help no one. Take heart."

"Yes, father." Ought he to say something? Give some hint of impending danger? But _was _there impending danger? Perhaps Old Deuteronomy already knew… "Father…" he began, turning back towards the ancient grey tom. Before he could go on, Rumpelteazer came racing up to the Tire, dodging dancing felines.

"Munk'tap," gasped the tabby queen, breathless from running, "sommat's t'do! Yew've gotta come quick!"

Munkustrap reached out and grasped Teazer by the shoulders, trying not to let his fear show. "All right, Rumpel. All right. Let's try and keep calm; we don't want to cause an allout panic. _Where_ is there trouble?"

"At the back o'the yahd, where Tuggah'n'Skimble's keepin' watch. I—I know yew said ev'ry'un sh'ld stay'ere t'gethah, Munk, bu'…dunno, I couldn' really much enjoy meself fer thinkin'…well, I dunno wot, but that somefin' awful would'appen, an' now it is, an' oh _please_'urry!"

Munk's stomach lurched. He was too frightened even to scold the younger queen for wandering off. So they'd made it this far into the Ball and at last Demeter's 'vague feeling of something bad' _had _proven true. He rose to follow Teazer, then paused. "Someone's got to look after things here…"

"By which you mean 'sit with the old codger and ensure he doesn't sprain something,'" Old Deuteronomy chuckled, having remained oddly calm. "Not to worry, son. Admetus, here, will take care of me, won't you, lad? And together we'll see to it no one panics or runs off alone."

The cream-and-ginger tom, who had attended the Ball only because the adults had insisted everyone stay together, had spent the entire time seated near the Tire on his own, unobserved—well, evidently not unobserved by the Jellicle Leader. Unlike his twin brother Plato, who seemed to be having a grand enough time of it (apart from shooting the occasional worried look in Admetus's direction), Admetus had not participated in a single dance. He looked up, startled, at the sound of his name. After taking a moment to register what was being asked of him, he nodded and climbed up beside Old Deuteronomy. "We'll see to it," he mumbled, though with little real conviction.

Munkustrap groaned inwardly. _Another _youngish feline who needed some serious emotional help. Not exactly ideal.

"Munk'tap," Teazer pleaded again, "please'urry or some'un'll be kilt!"

Her words re-alerted Munk to the task immediately at paw. "Keep on the alert, Adme; _you've_ got to be the protector for now; I'm counting on you," he breathed before hurrying to follow after Rumpelteazer.

* * *

Quaxo had noticed the silver tabby leaving and immediately sensed something was amiss. Even as he glanced round for the twins, they were already on either side of him, hissing that it was time to go. Fortunately, after helping the kittens complete their improvised…clown dance, or whatever it had been, Quaxo had retired to the edge of the dance floor to take a rest—or, rather, to reach out with his mind as best he could try to discern if Griddlebone were near. He had not sensed her specifically—but then, she apparently had a mystical crony of her own, his exact abilities unknown. The twins, at least, had reached out to the guardian Jellicles at the gates, knowing there would be a change if they saw anything. In any case, now it seemed something _had _changed and he and the twins discreetly left the dancing felines behind.

"Munkustrap and Teazer—should we follow them?" he asked. He wasn't quite certain—he thought he had sensed something strange, but not necessarily sinister, in the direction they'd headed. Was Teazer perhaps overreacting? Or had something completely new cropped up to cause her such a panic?

"No," Coricopat shook his head, "that is not where the true danger lies. There is trouble, but Munkustrap is capable of handling it himself. No, there's something else…" All at once, he stopped and clutched his head in his paws with a low moan.

"Cori?" Quaxo gasped, looking inquiringly at Tantomile. The queen put her paws over her brother's and scrounged her eyes shut, concentrating.

Quaxo looked on, half in fear, half in some sort of morbid fascination. For the first time he was witnessing the true dangers of the twins' abilities—this gift of one mind contacting another could also be a curse: it left one open to attack.

At last, Coricopat's face relaxed from its expression of pain. He and his sister opened their eyes and exchanged a nod. "We've got to go on," Coricopat whispered. Leaning on one another, the two continued walking, and Quaxo followed, hearing Tantomile's voice in his mind: _Gilbert. _Gilbert had tried to cripple them; they'd eluded his efforts. For now.

For all the good it might do—at the moment, he didn't even feel he was from the same _universe_ as the twins, let alone in possession of abilities remotely like theirs—Quaxo attempted to share calming images among the three of them: a lovely sunset, a good meal, a soft bed by a human's fireside. They mustn't give into fear, they had to be ready to face Griddlebone or Gilbert or whoever it was awaited them. Besides, he thought grimly, he had to practice thinking of where to send the hench queen. If he even succeeded. _No, mustn't think like that. Must succeed or… _He stopped short of listing off the alternatives. He'd imagined them often enough. No, he would simply have to succeed, period. Any other option was unthinkable.

But supposing he _did. _Would that truly solve everything? For there would still be Gilbert and TB to deal with. _Well, then…we'll…deal with them. _Even if it meant something dire, like simply letting loose with the blue lightning he still couldn't control, and just see what it would do…

_Dark and dangerous thoughts, Quaxo, _Tantomile spoke to him again. _Would you truly be so ruthless? _

_To save our friends…yes. _


	31. Chapter 31

Somewhere along the way, they'd broken into a run. As Rumpelteazer skidded to a halt and Munkustrap leaned over, panting, Skimbleshanks hurried up to him, toting an unprotesting tiger tom along by the scruff of the neck.

Catching his breath, Munkustrap unbent and looked up at the pair. "Mungojerrie!" he exclaimed in surprise, "you're back? Then where's—" He broke off, noticing multiple scratches, some deep and bleeding, others mere grazes, covering Mungojerrie's face and shoulders. Glancing at Skimble, he saw the older tom was in much the same state. He couldn't believe Skimble would have actually got into a brawl with somecat so much smaller and younger than he, but perhaps the situation was truly that serious. Perhaps Jerrie really _had _rejoined the henches (or never really left) and had tried something…though Munk had an equally difficult time imagining this frightened, half-grown tom he saw before him engaging in _any _sort of violence. He looked more pitiful than dangerous. "Skimble…what's…?"

"We both made the foolish mistake of trying to get between _them," _Skimbleshanks growled by way of explanation, jerking his head to the side to indicate something going on behind him. Munkustrap looked in that direction, but saw no one. Still, he thought he could detect the sounds of conflict nearby. "Just outside the gates," Skimble added. "And _you," _he snapped to Teazer, who was rushing ahead again, "just you keep _out_ of it unless you wish to be torn to bits! No common sense, these kits…" As Munkustrap followed him to the back gates, Skimble tried to prepare the silver tabby. "Young Munk, I… I've never seen either of them in such a state. I don't mind telling you I'm at a total loss. Never mind which of them is in the right; they mustn't be allowed to _murder_ one another over it! It started off as talk, but didn't take long in escalating and coming to blows. Shouting at them hasn't worked…Force hasn't worked…perhaps they will listen to _you…_And perhaps you can make some sense of what it's all about…"

As they proceeded through the gates and approached the two snarling felines, Munkustrap knew who they were before even seeing them clearly. _Why did I never do anything more when they were both younger and more manageable…I _knew_ it would come to this one day… _He shook his head. Why hadn't _he _done anything? Why hadn't their _father_done something? Why hadn't their own _mother _noticed two of her sons hated each other?

But no. Now was no time to be casting blame… Not when the stuff of nightmares was taking place right before his eyes.

For that was what it looked like: this was no mere 'wrestling-match-that-got-out-of-paw' or 'momentary-loss-of-temper.' Both Munkustrap's brothers appeared to have completely lost their minds. He'd wanted to believe Teazer was being melodramatic when she declared that 'someone would be killed,' but it suddenly seemed frighteningly likely that someone _might. _Neither Tugger nor MacVitie appeared to be seriously injured yet, but it certainly wasn't through lack of trying. Both had got in a few good slashes, but remained more or less on an equal footing. Tugger was the larger and stronger of the two, while Mack was the quicker. Fortunately (in Munk's view, at least) neither was very much used to any sort of serious combat, and therefore both knew next to nothing about tactics. Indeed, in some ways they presented almost a comical picture. So long as Tugger kept lunging wildly at Mack, and Mack kept dodging just in the nick of time, probably neither would succeed in much of anything except looking ridiculous and getting nipped and scratched all over. But let Tugger once get MacVitie pinned, or MacVitie think to jump Tugger from behind and get a good hold of him…All it would take was for one of them to knock the other off-balance, and then who knew what would happen…

Munkustrap came as close to his two brothers as he dared. "Stop it, both of you!" he bellowed in the most commanding tone he could muster, on the wild chance that suddenly hearing a different voice might startle them into leaving off for at least a moment.

It only half worked. MacVitie's head whipped around at the sound of his brother's voice. Tugger took advantage of the distraction to come barreling into MacVitie and knock him to the ground. "Traitor," he spat, wrapping his paws around the other tom's throat.

_"No," _Teazer shrieked. _"Do _somefin', Munk! Jerrie, quit starin' like a dead codfish an' _'elp!_"

"Help me, Skimble," Munkustrap snarled. The orange and silver tabbies, joined by Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer despite Skimble's having snapped at them to keep back, each seized Tugger from behind and gradually managed to pry him off of his brother. Even then, they were obliged to keep ahold of Tugger as he kicked and fought to get loose.

"Let go of me," he panted, glaring wildly round at all of them. MacVitie lay where he'd been left, catching his breath.

"Not until you cease this madness," Skimbleshanks told him firmly. "Or must we cart you _both_ off to the vet and have you tested for rabies?"

"Tugger, what are you _thinking?" _Munkustrap exclaimed. Now that the immediate danger was averted, it began to fully sink in that he had nearly witnessed one of his own family members murder the other. His knees wobbled. The silver tabby had to fight to keep himself upright. "Did you want to—to _kill _him?"

"You should have _let _me," Tugger spat. "But so long as _you're_ here breathing down my neck, I won't do anything. Get your stinking paws off me."

Gingerly, reluctantly, the other felines let him go and stepped back. Skimble continued to keep a wary eye on him. Munkustrap went over to MacVitie, who was now sitting up, with Teazer's assistance. "Leave me alone. I'm fine," he mumbled.

"You'll kill him yourself when you stop to think what he's done," Tugger sneered. "Then again, perhaps not. Little Bubbles can _do _no wrong in _your _book, can he? But when _I _try to save all our hides…"

Ignoring his older brother, Munkustrap gazed keenly at his younger. "Vitie. What's going on? What's happened?"

MacVitie shook his head wearily, making Teazer exclaim in protest as she'd been attempting to apply pressure to one of his cuts with a discarded handkerchief she'd found. "Can't tell you…yet. Not until…"

"You'll tell me _now," _Munk cut in, exasperated. "At the brink of killing your own brother and you 'can't tell me anything'? You must be mad, the pair of you! And I'm _finished _being left out of these hare-brained 'plans' of yours that never work, d'you hear?"

"I'm only trying to protect you…"

"Then do everyone a favor and _don't!" _

"It's Ol' Deut," Mungojerrie blurted out suddenly, unable to contain himself. "We was—on'y a distract-shun."

Teazer stared at her brother. "Jerrie! Wot d'ye mean? Jus' _wot've _yew two been up to in that…that orful place?"

"More'n yew'n Quax've been up to_'ere, _apparently," Jerrie countered. "Well, 'course we've gone along wif wotevah they's tol' us t'do! Wot else c'ld we do when we'd'eard nary a peep fr'm any'un?"

"But…"

"Enough!" Munkustrap interrupted the twins' argument, his heartrate increasing. "Mack, you've _got _to tell me what they're talking about!"

"Get to the front gates," groaned Mack.

"What? That's _not _an…"

"The _real _trouble is by the front gates. We were just a diversion." His voice was cold, emotionless, as if he was weary of life itself. "All we had to do was not say anything…" he shook his head, glancing at Mungojerrie. "I thought _Demeter_ would be the one to talk."

"Talk? About what? All she told me was that she had a feeling something would happen… MacVitie, you're not making any sense!"

"Get to the front gates!" Mack repeated, leaping to his footpaws with sudden energy. "Do you understand? There's no _time _for…"

"Then we're _all_ going." He glanced over at Skimble and Tugger, then back to MacVitie. "Can't trust the two of you out of my sight for a minute. And you _will _give me a full explanation when this is all over!"

"If we _live _that long," the ginger tom muttered.


	32. Chapter 32

As they neared the front gates, MacVitie saw his brother tilt his head, presumably listening for sounds of conflict. But all was eerily quiet, as Mack had guessed it would be. There were only two ways this could go, he'd reasoned: either Griddlebone and the henchcats would succeed in capturing Old Deuteronomy, in which case there would be no reason for them to stick around; for what could be more guaranteed to hurt all the Jellicles at once and throw them into chaos as the henchqueen so desired than to steal away their beloved leader? Mack could hardly believe this hadn't occurred to him sooner. On the other paw, if Griddlebone _didn't _succeed…it would be because Quaxo and the twins had managed to stop her—in some mystical, magical way which Mack _still _didn't understand—in which case, the henchcats would most likely scatter, bereft of their leader.

Either way, there was little reason to suppose there would be some giant brawl going on when they arrived—unless a particular Jellicle and a particular henchcat had managed to get something started. Indeed, all things considered, there was little point in Munkustrap rushing to the rescue, Mack thought grimly. What could brute strength do up against whatever mystical mind battle would be going on—apart, he supposed, from holding off any henches that might try to interfere.

But the uncanny silence suggested that all had already been decided, one way or the other, with or without anyone's interference…

Arriving on the scene, Munkustrap and the others came to an abrupt halt, staring all about them in bewilderment. All the Jellicles appeared to be gathered here now, as if the Jellicle Ball had merely moved locations this year. Indeed, if no danger had been on Munk's radar, he would have easily believed all was well—that everyone was merely hanging around in various groups, resting between dances as they often did. And not even a single hench was in sight—except… MacVitie's pelt prickled, and he pointed out two felines, nudging Munkustrap. "Over there." Gilbert crouched on the ground, head in his paws, while Old Deuteronomy appeared to be calmly speaking to him—as if he were any other Jellicle, and not the filthy traitor that he was.

"It's dad," Munkustrap breathed, shoulders sagging in relief. "Then he's all right…" He frowned. "Vitie, if he's _here_—well, you and Mungojerrie led me to think…But who…Is that…Gilbert?"

"If dad's all right, it's because of Quaxo," MacVitie interrupted. "But you need to get over there. I don't trust that…creature…he's talking to, as far as I can spit. He's…something like Coricopat and Tantomile, so be careful. No doubt he's going the sob-story 'I've-been-on-your-side-all-along' route, but don't believe him for a minute."

"Sounds like someone _else_ we know," Tugger smirked, overhearing.

"Don't start in on that again," Munkustrap snapped, taking charge. "And don't think either one of you is getting out of the Family Conference that's taking place the _instant _we ensure everyone's safe. I'll go see for dad. You two, find out from Alonzo and the others what's happened. Skimble…please find Jenny and Jelly and make sure everyone's accounted for." He hurried over to Old Deuteronomy.

"Er, wot…wot d'_we_ do?" Jerrie inquired timidly.

"Just you stick with me," Skimble ordered in his most no-nonsense tones. "I'll see if I can't keep you two out of trouble for at least a half-moment…"

"Quax'," Teazer exclaimed, all at once catching sight of the tuxedo tom. She ignored Skimble's orders and made a beeline for Quaxo, kneeling down by his side where he lay stretched out on the floor, unconscious. Skimble heaved a resigned sigh and followed, Mungojerrie in tow. Most of the Jellicles appeared to be gathered in that general area anyway, though clearly they'd been told to "back off," as all but a few were standing well away from Quaxo, looking on anxiously. The only felines immediately near him now, apart from Teazer, were Tantomile, holding his head in her lap and appearing to be 'mind-melding' with him, or attempting to at any rate; and little Sillabub, who crouched beside the tom, having refused to move. She looked up as Rumpelteazer knelt down on Quaxo's other side, her large golden eyes brimming with tears. Mungojerrie stood irresolutely a short ways off, still uncertain what to do or where to go.

Fearing to disturb whatever Tantomile was attempting to do, Teazer whispered to the kitten, "Wot…wot'appened?"

Sillabub held a paw to her lips. "Shh. Kwaxy did a big trick, but it made him so tired that he had to take a big nap. Miz Tanto says he needs to wake up now. She's waking him up." Her lip quivered. "I ask him to do too many tricks? Is that why he falled asleep?"

"No, no,'course not," Teazer soothed. "'E's jus' saved th'world, that's all. 'E'll wake up soon, I knows it."

Sillabub nodded, smiling through her tears. "That's what Miz Tanto said. I'm holding his paw till he wakes up so he won't be scared. Maybe he have bad dreams and feel better if I'm holding his paw."

Deciding _that_ particular situation was as well in hand as could be expected, and Jerrie and Teazer weren't likely to move, Skimble turned to seek out his mate and Jellylorum.

Jenny had gathered as many of the younger cats and kittens as she could off to one side, and was trying to keep them occupied with various games in small groups. Seeing Skimble make his way over to Jenny, MacVitie looked about for Coricopat—who, he had reason to think, might be the only tom actually willing to tell him anything.

He found the mystic tom lying on an old rug that was serving as a makeshift bed, waiting to be tended by Jelly—along with a few others. So there _had _been a fight then; and more than just a 'mind battle.' He looked 'round at the others: Plato, looking slightly scratched but sitting up, Admetus crouched beside him; Alonzo, having his head bandaged by Jelly, who at the same time somehow noticed Bombalurina trying to sneak off despite the nasty-looking bite marks on her leg. "Just sit your tail right back down, young miss," Jelly snapped. "I'm coming for you next. You'll not have any sympathy from _me _if you walk off and that thing gets infected…"

"See to her first," mumbled Alonzo, in a daze.

"Quiet," snapped Jelly, "or have you suddenly become the medical expert? Head wounds first."

Tugger, meanwhile, had come up to Bomba and was apparently trying to persuade her to listen to Jelly. Bomba appeared none too pleased to see him, and snapped something about, "Since when do _you _ever listen to anyone?"

Peter lay on the next rug, motionless, though MacVitie couldn't see anything immediately amiss with him physically.

Mack turned back to Coricopat. "Cori…" He didn't know where to begin.

The mystic tom opened his eyes. "Not hurt," he rasped, "just exhausted…"

"Like Quaxo, then?"

"Quaxo's worse off…should never have tried that much…Tanto should leave him alone for now and try again later…good long sleep might be just all he needs…"

"Tried that much _what?_ Coricopat, what exactly happened? None of you ever told me anything…"

"I know. Couldn't. Sorry. Gilbert…"

"Who's now suddenly suspiciously penitent," Mack growled. "Shouldn't someone…"

"Leave him. He can't do any harm for a good while…he's used up just as much energy as I have." Coricopat looked somewhat smug at that thought. "And besides…don't think he has the will anymore. He was misguided…thought he could bide his time with the henches…get his revenge…conspired with Griddle to have Growltiger murdered…then planned to do the same to her…first chance he had…"

MacVitie shook his head, dazed. So Gilbert _had _been working against the henchcats all this time? But then what about all he'd done to MacVitie and the others, what about his intending to capture Old D? What about the state he'd brought Quaxo and Coricopat to? … Was Mack seriously expected to believe it was all in the interests of the Jellicles?

"Not…for Henchcats. Or Jellicles," Coricopat resumed, as if still able to detect Mack's thoughts despite his exhausted state. Or perhaps Mack was such an open book that his thoughts were simply blatantly obvious. _Just as Gilbert has warned on countless occasions. He _had _given the occasional piece of good advice… _"He…works for his own…interests. Revenge for Hecuba. Blames everyone. But…if anyone…can bring him back round…stay his madness…it's Old Deuteronomy. And...Cassandra."

MacVitie was not convinced. But for now, he didn't argue the matter. "Griddlebone. Where has she gone? And the rest of the henches?"

"Henches…only fought us as long as their leader was here…then scattered."

"But what _happened _to her?"

"Quaxo. He…sent her…somewhere. Won't know where until he wakes and tells us. That…part of the plan…succeeded."

"So the entire plan hung on whether Quaxo could magically cause a cat to disappear from one place and appear in another?" Somehow, this infuriated MacVitie. In his mind, Quaxo still seemed like a silly kit doing parlor tricks. "Did you _know _he would succeed?"

"We…thought so. Yet so much depended on…whether Gilbert…detected the plan…and informed the Lady. Fortunately…he focused his attention on Tantomile and me, underestimating the extent of Quaxo's abilities. And besides…it turned out the Lady's disappearance was in Gilbert's best interests as well."

"And_ that's_ what knocked Quaxo out? Sending Griddlebone away?"

"No…it was bringing…Old Deuteronomy back."

"Back? So the henches _did _steal him away after all? But you said that when Griddle disappeared, they scattered…"

"Gilbert…managed to transport him…away. I believe to the warehouse."

MacVitie gasped. "And you say he's not for the henches? That he's no danger?"

"Hush! I said he was for neither. And…that he was no harm…for now. His strength is spent for the moment."

"Well, and how about when he gets his strength _back?_ No doubt he'll set himself up as the new hench leader, if only to keep using them! And…he evidently still wants to capture my father, Griddlebone or no Griddlebone!"

"Not if Deuteronomy can persuade him otherwise. You see…all of this…the reason he ran mad to begin with…was his loss of Hecuba. He…somehow managed…to persuade himself that… Deuteronomy has the capability of bringing cats back…For years he has held onto the hope that one day…Hecuba's life could be restored…only he didn't believe Deuteronomy would be willing, so thought to use force… As for Griddlebone, she too had reasons of her own, and promises made to the other henchcats…" He sighed wearily. "But she is gone. And I do not believe Gilbert will continue his mad schemes. The events of tonight…have broken him."

"This is _all_ mad," MacVitie muttered. "Crazy, walloping mad." A sudden thought struck him. "But what of TB? He was as much a danger as anyone, perhaps more, at least when it came to brute strength and determination. I can't believe _he'll _give up so easily…" He gasped. "Coricopat. Where's Demeter?"

Coricopat managed to murmur, "With Carbuckety," before exhaustion overcame him at last and he dropped abruptly into a sleep from which he was unlikely to wake until morning.

_With Carbuckety. _Of course. Where else _would_ she be?

MacVitie hurried over toward the group of kittens, where Jennyanydots was still attempting to explain to Skimble what had happened. Not stopping to speak to anyone, Mack simply scanned the group, seeing what, if he were honest with himself, he'd expected from the beginning.

Carbuckety was missing from the group. So was Demeter.

Heart pounding, MacVitie turned tail and hurried towards the Junkyard entrance.


	33. Chapter 33

Through a haze of fear and nausea, MacVitie heard voices, though they sounded miles away. Somehow he stopped his feet moving and stared uncomprehendingly at the cats in front of him. He still heard them as if through a long tunnel.

"So, you just nip on back to where you came from," someone was saying. "No one _wants_ you here. You leave my mum alone and never bother her again, is that clear?"

"Carbuckety," called another voice anxiously, "come away now. Come back over here with me."

"Not so fast," chuckled another, "we've not quite done talking. Wouldn't want me comrades to think you _impolite, _wouldye?"

"Please, Brutus. Your leader is gone. Your comrades have scattered. We both of us have injured cats to see to. Can we not all go our separate ways and cease this ridiculous feud? There's nothing to fight over any longer."

"That's where yer wrong, m'dear." The feline glanced towards MacVitie, who with sudden clarity at last recognized TB. "Ain't that right, Napkit, eh? I _do _have a bone or two yet to pick with your folks, and one of'em's right here." He looked down at Carbuckety, who stood glaring up at him.

"Go'way and leave us alone!" the kitten demanded again. TB only laughed again in response, and effortlessly tossed Bucky up in the air and caught him again, though the tomkit managed to give him a good scratch in the process.

"Aha, so it _does _bite." He set Carbuckety down, though still keeping a restraining paw on him. MacVitie knew TB wouldn't simply allow Demeter and Carbuckety to walk away from this. "Now, let's be reasonable… There are only the two of you… Three, I suppose, if you count young no-account Nappy over there… Whereas me…" He glanced behind him. For the first time, MacVitie noticed that several of the newer henchcats, rather than merely scattering as Coricopat had thought, were still gathered, apparently ready to back TB up. _But why? What more have they to gain? What did Griddlebone promise them? _"Let's not do anything foolish, shall we?"

"What is it you want?" MacVitie spoke up at last.

"Ahh, I was hoping you'd ask, dear comrade. Ex-comrade. Say, which is it? D'ye know? I wonder, do _they _know?" TB nodded in Demeter's direction. "Seems t'me ye've lost the trust of _both _yer tribes, eh?"

"To the _point, _TB," MacVitie growled, refusing to be distracted though TB had pointed out what Mack feared most of all—that, at the end of the day, because of his actions, he would have nothing and no one to return to. "What do you _want?" _

"For myself, I want nothing more than to return peacefully to my headquarters—yes, I expect it _is _mine now, eh? As the previous leader seems to have moved on and the only other contender is in no state to argue the matter. I am perfectly happy to return there peacefully and have nothing more to do with the Jellicles." He paused. "I'll be taking my mate and kit with me, of course."

"I'm not yours," Demeter hissed, "and never was."

"Me neither," added Carbuckety fiercely. "We've got a _real _family now, and you can't take us away from them!"

"That so?" grinned the henchtom. "Well, your 'real family' aren't exactly here to back you up now, are they? Mustn't care for you all _that _much, eh?"

_"I'm _here," MacVitie growled, doing his utmost to keep his personal feelings under control. He had suspected all along, of course…but this was the first real confirmation he'd heard of Carbuckety's parentage. "And you know perfectly well why the others aren't." It infuriated him to no end to have to admit that the henchcats had whipped them, yet suffered little damage themselves. Apart from Griddle, whom was no-one-knew-_where, _and Gilbert. As for Skimble and Munkustrap, MacVitie wouldn't have asked them to come even if he'd thought of it; despite Cori's words, Mack was certain Old D needed to be as closely guarded as ever.

"Ah yes. Didn't leave _you _much capable backup, did we? Not that you had any to begin with…"

"I challenge you to single combat," MacVitie blurted out before he could stop to really consider the matter and frighten himself out of it.

TB burst out laughing in earnest. "You sure you don't wanna rethink that, kit? Ain't exactly in prime condition yerself, and even if'n y'were… Why should I take up such a pitiful challenge when I could simply take me own by force, with the help of me pals here?"

"You won't," MacVitie responded, taking a tremendous gamble. "What kind of a victory would _that _be? Let them do your work for you? Demonstrate you rely on _them _and not the other way 'round? _Are_ you their new leader or aren't you? You want their respect or not?"

TB bared his teeth. "Just fer that I'm tired o' puttin' up with yer cheek, kit, I'll _take _up yer ruddy challenge. And it'll be to the death. Been nice knowin' ya." He shoved Carbuckety in the direction of one of the observing henches. "Hold onto this baggage. He escapes, yer life is forfeit." He turned back to MacVitie. "So we're clear. The terms?"

"If I win, Demeter and Carbuckety return to the Jellicles and you never go near them again."

_"If you win,"_ TB chuckled, "that's rich. But if such an impossible thing _happens_ t'come about, _I'll_ have t'be dead. So I can easily promise to never go near'em again in that case."

"We want the old one," hissed the tom holding onto the struggling Carbuckety. "We were promised the old one!"

"Ah, I'd nearly forgot," TB resumed. "I win, me mate an' kit goes with me, _and _yer precious ol' granddad chap goes with me as well."

"What?" MacVitie gasped. "That wasn't…"

"If the impossible happens and you kill _me, _you'd better hand him over to me pals here, or I won't answer for what _they'll _do."

"Never!" exclaimed MaVitie and Demeter together.

"Then the deal's off," TB shrugged. "I've got hold o' my temper now, so Nappy, if'n y'll just fetch yer pa here, me'n me family'll be on our way an' ye'll never hear a peep more out of us."

"MacVite, don't. I'll _go _with you, Brutus," Demeter pleaded, "but leave Old Deuteronomy out of it. Reason with your friends. Offer them something else…"

"Nothin' doing, m'dear," TB shook his head. "They've taken it into their heads yer leader has the power to grant immortality or some such ridiculous notion. Can't shake it out of'em, I'm afraid. Last thing I need's mutiny on me hands right off the bat when I've not been leader five minutes. He goes with us, whether or no. _That's _non-negotiable."

"Not if _I've _anything to say about it," Mack snarled.

"Yer gonna make me lose me temper again, kit… No deal on yer dad, so ferget it. Do we have a challenge fer the queen an' the kit, or shall I just take'em away now an' leave you to me pals?"

"Brutus," Demeter interrupted again, "let me speak with MacVitie for two minutes."

"Sure, sure," chuckled TB, quite amiable again. Evidently he was enjoying their plight. "No doubt y'wants t'say yer goodbyes."

Demeter hurried over to MacVitie. "Listen, don't do this," she hissed. "I'll go with him—I'll escape somehow—you hurry back to the others and warn them to defend Old D…"

"The state most of us are in, you think we have a chance against _that _lot?" Mack nodded towards the henchcats.

"Maybe not, but it will be the same situation after the fight…only…only there will be one less Jellicle defender…"

"So you think I can't best him?" MacVitie tried to let loose an unconcerned laugh, but it sounded more like a strangled croak.

"Maybe you can. Even if he's stronger, I've no doubt you can outwit him. You might succeed, even if you look like you've already taken a good hiding…"

"Really know how to make a tom feel good about himself, Deme."

"Vitie, I'm _serious. _You're not a killer."

"That's where you're wrong," Mack said flatly. Jezza had survived, but she could just as easily have been killed—and by MacVitie's actions, no one else's. Demeter shivered, and he knew she was still haunted by the way he had looked, covered in the henchqueen's blood. As if from a lifetime ago, he recalled the conversations he had once had with Munkustrap and Bombalurina, back when the biggest worry in the young Jellicles' lives had been the dramatics of Who would go with Whom to the Ball… It all seemed so ridiculous now. _Confess your love, _Bomba had said dramatically, frightening him out of his wits. He hadn't been anywhere near ready then. Yet somewhere along the way he'd missed the chance of ever being ready at all. Even if all went well—even if he defeated TB, got Demeter and Carbuckety back to the Jellicles, and between all of them they somehow managed to ward off the henches and defend Old D—the happy, untroubled times were irrevocably lost. They would all gradually move on with their lives, but those lives would never be the same again. And no matter how much she forgave him, Demeter would never be able to look at him the same way again, any more than Admetus could. He was forever bound up in their memories of the worst days of their lives; he saw no way of extricating himself.

Somehow, all of this must have managed to at least partially convey itself to Demeter, as she and MacVitie exchanged a long, wordless glance. Heaving a resigned sigh, she nodded. "Then if you must…just…" She paused. "Don't die."

"I won't," Mack forced a confidence into his voice which he was miles away from actually feeling. "And we won't let them have dad, either," he added. He waved a paw vaguely. "We'll…manage somehow. And…Quaxo…"

TB cleared his throat loudly, growing impatient. "Would've been easier to just kill you right off the bat, kit, but TB don't go back on his word once given. Let's get this over with."

Demeter returned to the place she'd been standing before, and the henchcats took a noticeable few steps back, shifting slightly, creating something of a ring around the two combatants.

As he stared across at the giant henchtom, a thought occurred to MacVitie, though it felt as if this were all happening to someone else: _I've no clue what I'm doing. I'm about to die. _

No! He couldn't think like that! He must get through this. He must…what had Demeter said…he had to…_outwit_ TB somehow. What tricks did he know that TB wouldn't?

None, that was the trouble. He knew nothing about fighting. Even when he'd fought Alonzo, and later Tugger, he'd done nothing more than leap and flail about like an idiot. With Jezza, he could scarce remember a thing about what had happened, apart from a frantic determination to protect Demeter at all costs and suddenly coming to himself and realizing the henchqueen had long since stopped struggling...

TB was coming nearer. MacVitie couldn't think straight. His vision grew fuzzy. What was the matter with him? _No…can't pass out now…Demeter and Carbuckety… _But the darkness was irresistible. What a weakling he was. And now Demeter and Carbuckety were simply going to be taken, with no fight, no challenge…because of him.

Strangely, his last conscious thought was, _How did Quaxo get here? _


	34. Chapter 34

Tantomile, still cradling Quaxo's head in her lap, had opened her eyes, and Sillabub had taken this as an invitation to address her.

"When he wake up, Miz Tanto?" she asked anxiously.

"Patience, little one," said Tantomile. "He will wake when he's ready."

"Jis' yew keep'oldin' 'is paw, Silla, that's the ticket," Teazer nodded encouragingly. "'E'll be glad of it when'e wakes, I know'e will."

"Teazah…"

Rumpelteazer looked around, startled and somewhat sheepish, at the sound of her brother's voice. For the moment she'd quite forgot he was there. "Yes, Jerr'? Y'needn't stan' there like a lemming," she added, patting the floor next to her. "Quax's yer friend as much as ours. Mus' be nice t'wake up surrounded by friends…"

"Err, act'ally Teazah, Oi was finkin'…"

Tantomile glanced up sharply, as if she had already detected what he was thinking and was displeased by it.

"P'raps we…" Jerrie gulped. "P'raps we oughtta be goin'."

"Goin'?" Teazer asked, startled. "Goin' _where? _Yer not still finkin' of…?"

"It's jus'," Mungojerrie persisted, "it seems we…I…caused enough trouble fer these folks an' supposin' Lady Mothah…"

"Tha' monstress is gone," Teazer growled. "What d'ye fink put Quax' in this state? 'E sent'er somewhere far, far away. 'E's the greates' magician evah. 'E's Magical Mistah…Mistah…wotever-'e-called-'imself. 'E c'n conjure fings an' _un_conjure 'em as well! So y'see, we're free!"

Sillabub clapped her paws. "You're free," she repeated, mimicking Teazer's excited tone, "'cause Quaxy's magical!" Her smile faded. "I likes you two. You's funny. I don't want you to go'way."

"We won't," Teazer assured her. "Y'can't get rid on us," she added with a giggle.

"But, Teazah… What I did… I 'elped…"

"You are where you belong," Tantomile said firmly, "and let us not hear anymore about _leaving. _You are family now."

"An' ev'ry'un knows," Teazer added, "yew an' Vitie'ad no choice."

"Not ev'ry'un," Jerrie muttered.

Suddenly, Tantomile waved a paw to shush them all and leaned her head towards Quaxo's so that her ear was right near his mouth. "He's said something."

"M'cVitie," the tuxedo tom mumbled again.

Sillabub began rubbing his paw, as if that would help. "Talk again, Waxy!"

"Shh," said Tantomile. "It may have just been a dream…but it's good…it means he is sleeping more normally now…"

All at once, Quaxo's eyes snapped open. He immediately tried to sit up, but the three queens held him back. "You supposed to rest," Sillabub ordered, mimicking Jenny's best no-nonsense tone.

"Glad to'ave yew back, Quax'," Teazer murmured, giving his paw a squeeze.

But Quaxo had his gaze fixed on Tantomile, as if trying to convey something mentally. "You've got to let me up," he pleaded. "There's something…" He frowned. "I don't understand what happened… Can you see…" He trailed off, confused.

"It's a'righ', Quax'," Jerrie ventured, "any'un'd be confuzzled after wot y've been through…"

"I think I can see what's happened," Tantomile said, "but…I can scarce believe it. It still may be a figment of your imagination, but I see you'll have no peace until you investigate for yourself. So we will go. Slowly." As Quaxo seemed about to protest, she added, "The danger—if there was danger—is past, Quaxo."

Quaxo seemed to concentrate a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Fine. Slowly."

"Oi," Teazer objected, _"we're _coming too!"

"Of course you are," sighed Tantomile, "or didn't you think I'd need your help? Quaxo's legs are more useless than a jar of preserves. We'll have to more or less walk _for _him."

"An' wot about the babby?" Jerrie piped up.

"I'm not a baby an' I'm gonna help too!" Sillabub glared at him.

"Of course you are," Tantomile repeated. "I need you to keep holding Quaxo's paw so he doesn't become afraid." She looked round at all of them. "As I said, the immediate danger is past. As long as we all stay together, it will be all right."

"Oi don't fink Jenny er Jelly'd approve…" Teazer suggested.

The slightest glint of mischief shone in Tantomile's eyes. "They are both rather occupied at the moment." Her face sobered once again. "You know that if we did not take her along, she would find her own way, which would be far worse."

"Miz Tanto knows I'm growed up," Sillabub declared proudly.

"All right," Quaxo cut in, "but we said 'slowly,' not 'at a standstill.' Tanto, I…you're right, there's no immediate danger to us, but something…something still isn't right."


	35. Chapter 35

The first sensations Mack became aware of as he regained consciousness were an eerie silence and the scent of singed fur. He saw nothing as yet, for his eyes were still closed and for the moment he was terrified of opening them. At first, he thought himself back in the flat…_what flat…_the flat which Griddlebone had sent him to set ablaze…_but why in Heaviside had he _listened…? No, he _had _refused…_but she had hurt them, hurt Teazer and Admetus… _He could still hear their screams as he dashed off to do the Lady's bidding, anything to stop those awful screams… What was a humans' flat when up next to his friends…? _Only the flat wasn't empty… _She'd known it wouldn't be… _Now Munk and the others were burning, he could smell it, it was all his fault— _But no, that wasn't right, he realized with a jolt. That had been ages ago. They had escaped, if just barely. _But no matter, Griddlebone would find other ways, she would see to it the Jellicles' existence was never free of pain and suffering and death… _But Griddle was _gone, _he at last recalled. It was _someone else _now, someone else would harm his friends and family unless he stopped them—_But who—TB! _

At last his eyes unclosed. Slowly, MacVitie sat up, blinking, trying to discern where he was. Last he remembered, TB had been approaching him…he'd thought himself a goner…

_Perhaps he was, _he thought for a brief, wild moment. _Perhaps he was dead, and that was why everyone seemed to have vanished… _But no, that wasn't it either, he realized, beginning to recognize his surroundings. Had TB beaten him, but decided to let him live after all? But that would mean— "Demeter!" he tried to call, though his voice only came out as a hoarse whisper, as if he'd recently been screaming or breathing foul air. "Carbuckety!"

Why could he still smell fire? Why did he feel as if he'd just been _in _a fire? Gingerly, he stood up to his footpaws. He tried walking. He seemed unhurt, except for the feeling that he'd just escaped another burning house. This made no sense.

At last, he spotted a still, crumpled feline form lying nearby. He caught his breath and hurried over, willing it not to be Demeter or Carbuckety… Almost instantly, he recoiled with an involuntary cry of horror. In the face, he had recognized TB. But the rest of his corpse—for a corpse it was—was burnt and discolored beyond recognition. At least, Mack gathered that's what had happened, judging by the awful smell. He'd never actually _seen _a burnt cat before… And though he'd intended to fight TB to the death, it hadn't occurred to him until now what it would _really _be like, staring into the lifeless eyes of his adversary. With Jezza, the horror had come later, with the memories; at the time, he'd been too intent on escape and saving the others to spend time dwelling on what he'd just done. Now, alone with this corpse, which had only moments ago (or had it been hours?) been as much a living, breathing creature as himself, the remorse washed over MacVitie in relentless accusing waves.

Remorse and bewilderment. _How_ had this happened? How had he done it? _Had _he done it? He knelt down by the corpse and held up his own paws to his face, staring at them intently. There was no trace of anything on them—no blood, no indication of some mysterious flame that had leapt out of them to devour his enemy… But whatever _had _happened, his doing or not, it had been enough to frighten everyone away… Or had they simply moved off the moment TB was dead, ignoring the terms of the fight and taking Demeter and Carbuckety with them? Had they got Old D back as well? Or, he again considered the frightening possibility, were the living irrelevant now? Was Mack dead after all, and this was his punishment—sitting forever beside the corpse of one he had meant to kill…

"Vitie…"

"Stay back!" MacVitie snapped automatically, leaping up to his feet once more. He saw Demeter and Carbuckety emerge from behind an old abandoned car. Demeter stopped, gazing over at Mack in hurt and bewilderment, while Carbuckety ignored the ginger tom's words and marched right up to him.

"Your fur's standing up all over. You look awful," the tomkit said bluntly.

"Don't come any closer," Mack repeated, "and don't touch me. I don't know how this happened, or what's…" He shook his head. "Demeter. Did you see? Tell me." Only, he hoped she _hadn't _seen. Not him once again intent on killing a living creature, and this time succeeding…

"You don't…" The gold queen hesitated. "Tell me what you remember."

"Nothing. TB coming towards me. Then I thought I passed out. Next thing I knew…" He gestured wordlessly at the body of the once-powerful henchtom.

Before either MacVitie or Demeter could stop him, Carbuckety went over to the corpse and kicked it. "Good riddance," he spat.

"Carbuckety," Demeter gasped.

"Don't pretend you're not glad too…mum." Carbuckety frowned. "I don't think I'm used to saying that yet. At the warehouse it was always 'Lady this,' 'Lady that,' 'pull your weight or no food for a week…'" He glared down at what had once been TB. "All thanks to the likes of _him. _And I'm not supposed to be glad about it? He hurt _you _too!"

"Yes, he was our enemy," Demeter answered softly, joining Carbuckety but keeping her eye fixed on her son rather than the pitiful bundle beside them. "Since he was a danger to so many, I'm even glad he's gone. But I wish it _weren't _like this. I wish he could have changed his ways and begun over again somehow. And, my son, I never want you to rejoice over death, never mind whose. Rejoice in life."

Carbuckety's ears flattened and he lowered his head—but in shame, not in his usual defiance. "I'll try, mum."

MacVitie felt like an intruder on a private family moment. And Demeter seemed so wise all of a sudden—well, not all of a sudden, she'd always been a rather precocious creature, even as a kit—but now she sounded so much like Old Deuteronomy it made Mack want to weep for homesickness. Thinking of his father reminded him—

"We'd best be getting back," he told the other two. "Wherever _they've _gone, I don't assume for a moment that they'll not be back to make another attempt on dad. We've got to warn everyone. You can tell me what happened on the way…"

"MacVitie! Demeter!"

Mack looked up, startled, to see a rather motley-looking group of felines hurrying towards them—well, 'hurrying' as much as it was _possible _for them to hurry. Quaxo shuffled along, barely able to walk, supported on either side by Mungojerrie, Rumpelteazer, Tantomile, and Sillabub—well, he wasn't _leaning _on Sillabub, but she trailed along clinging to his paw. If Mack hadn't been so worried, he might have laughed at the picture they presented.

Carbuckety did laugh, the seriousness of the conversation with his mother forgotten or pushed aside for the moment. "What's this, a parade of invalids?" Abruptly, he sobered up as something seemed to occur to him. "Hi, Silla," he called, pulling strange faces at the adults and running directly up to Sillabub. "How did you like the Ball?"

"Fun," answered the queenkit, "till people started getting hurt and sick and we had to stop the dancing early. But lookie! Quaxy's getting better now!"

"That's great! I bet you were a big help…" As the two kits carried on conversing carelessly about nothing in particular, Mack realized that Bucky was trying in his own way to be helpful: he was trying to keep Sillabub from noticing the nearby corpse.

Mack shot Tantomile a meaningful look, thinking that if _anyone_ here could explain what had happened, she could. Understanding, the mystic queen asked Demeter to take her place supporting Quaxo—much as he hated it, the tuxedo tom was still about as weak as a newborn kit—and joined MacVitie.

"Everyone should get back to the 'yard," murmured the ginger tom. "I don't know when the henches will be back or what they'll do."

"They are still deciding," Tantomile told him. "But yes, we must go back."

"First…" He gestured toward TB's body, willing himself not to look directly at it. "Can you tell me…what happened to...him?"

"So it is true," Tantomile gasped in a mixture of horror and fascination.

"What's true?" MacVitie chewed his bottom lip, waiting for Tanto to inform him that he was some sort of demented fire monster. That he had some evil, twisted form of Quaxo's magic powers.

"Quaxo," she answered as if reading his thoughts—as perhaps she had. "Quaxo somehow—though he was unconscious after sending Griddlebone away and bringing back Deuteronomy—he somehow saw that you were in mortal danger. And he…defended you in the only way he could. I…am uncertain just _how. _I see you surrounded by a great blue light, almost a flame…"

"That blue lightning stuff," MacVitie breathed. Tantomile nodded. "Then somehow we made some...mind connection, and...he—I—we—electrocuted TB. Enough to…to kill him. Tantomile," he rushed on, _"please _don't tell Quaxo. Let _me_ take responsibility…"

"I'm sorry…once he has his strength back, there's no real way I can _stop_ him knowing…perhaps even now he already knows."

"Well, then, at least don't let him see…_this…_with his own two eyes. If he thinks of it only as coming in defense of a friend, he'll be all right—and even if he knows what his powers can do, it will teach him caution, but—let him once see the actual body…Tanto, it would destroy him, I know it would."

"It would," Tantomile agreed at once. _As it nearly did you._

_Nearly?_

_Never give into despair. You _will _be well again, MacVitie._

Aloud, she concluded, "We should go back…" She paused. "Vitie…they are preparing to return. They have come to an accord of some sort—I can't quite see what. But what I do see for certain is that they are terrified and awestruck by you…by your… 'powers.' Hurting you, or even attempting it, is the furthest thing from their minds."

"I can stall them," Mack cut in, catching her drift. "You get the others out of here."

_Be careful. Don't treat your life recklessly. Follow us as soon as you can. We will warn the others there may be another fight—get the injured out of the way, prepare all the abled._

_No need. I'll not let them near our home again._

Tantomile touched MacVitie's paw briefly before returning to the others. He heard loud protests, but at last they all moved off, back towards the Junkyard. Mack turned, again assuming a confidence he didn't feel, to wait the return of the henchcats. Just _what_ he'd say to them, he wasn't sure.

_You can do this. They'll do whatever you say. Remember, you…just fried their leader like a piece of bacon. _


	36. Chapter 36

"'E should've been back by now," fretted Rumpelteazer. "'Im er the'enches er both—by the bye, I don't like it one jot that we simply left'im t'deal wif'em."

"But yew'eard miz Tanto, they's _scared_ of'im—" her brother tried to interject.

"Nevahmin'," she cut him off, "bu' me point is, we should've seen _somefin'_ of'im by now if'n all was well, er the'enches if'n all _weren't _well. Sommat must've'appen'd."

"Not necessarily," Mungojerrie attempted to soothe her. "Mebbe'e's jus' tryin' t'talk'em into leavin' still. Can't be easy, y'know, even if they _are _scared of'im now."

"Ay, an' why's it up ter Mackey t'convince'em all on'is onesy? An' how d'we _know _they's scared of'im?"

"Well, yew'eard, some'ow Quax fill'd Mack wit' lightnin' powahs fer a mo' an' zapped ol' TB to a crisp. Now them'enches as saw it finks'e's some sorta wizard cat."

"An' how long can'e be expected t'keep _up _that pretense?"

"Miz Teazy?"

Jerrie and Teazer turned, rather sheepishly, at the sound of little Sillabub's voice. She stood below the Tire where they sat, looking hopefully up at them, holding baby Etcetera by the paw. The matched tabbies were meant to be watching them and the other kittens whilst everyone else was either seeing to the injured or preparing for another possible attack.

"Er, er, yes, m'dear, wot is it?" asked Teazer, hopping down to the floor.

"Can't you tell us what to play?" Silla begged. "Tumble an' Bucky say they playing Rescue an' we too little." She pouted. "But they letting Toria play."

Rumpelteazer glanced over a the older kits. Carbuckety was evidently the 'bad guy,' and Tumblebrutus had to 'defeat' him and save the captive kitten. The extent of Victoria's role mainly involved sitting around waiting to be rescued. Teazer didn't see why all three queenkits couldn't fill this role, but kits were so full of notions…

"'Ow'bout," Jerrie suggested, "that…that fing where yew chase each othah—er, er…Ting, Tong…"

"Tag?" Sillabub looked disappointed. "We play that lots. We bored of it." Etcetera nodded her head vigorously.

"Bor," she mimicked.

"Then…" Jerrie paused. "Then wot about this made-up game, ''Ow Did Lady Mothah—'"

"Jerrie!" Teazer interrupted, glaring at her brother. "Tha's no game fer kits!" In her time here, Teazer had learnt a thing or two from Jennyanydots and Jellylorum about what one did and _didn't _say to kittens.

"How did Lady Mothah—what?" Sillabub asked, intrigued.

"Nevah yew jolly well mind," said Teazer firmly. "I gots a much bettah idear. Play Crashin' Tower! Y'stacks a load o'boxes as high's y'can, an' then knocks'em ovah! It's a lark!"

Sillabub and Etcetera clapped their paws excitedly and raced off to gather boxes.

"Listen, Jer'," Teazer hissed, turning back to her brother, "I'm gonna go check on'im an' help'im out if need be…"

"O no yer not. If'n yer _that _worried, _I'll _go."

"No y'won't! Fink I'm _ever _gonna trust yew'n Mackey out'o my sights again? When the two of yew gets idears, y'land yerselves in'eaps o'trouble."

"'Twas _Quax's _idear," Jerrie protested.

"Mebbe that's even worser. Well in any case _I'm _goin'."

"Then I'm goin' wif yew."

"The kits!"

"Then we bof _stay."_

Teazer stamped her paw in exasperation. "Sommat's amiss wit' Mack, I _know _it!" She sighed. "Miz Jen'll kill me an' nevah let me near the kits again…but I fink they'll be a'righ', an' this's life an' death… Tumble!" she called.

The patched tomkit looked annoyed at having to leave his game, just on the verge of pinning Carbuckety to the ground and demanding the return of Victoria, who merely sat there innocently sucking her paw—but he came over readily enough. "Did you want me?"

"Lissen, Tumble," Teazer proceeded eagerly, "yer a great big grown responsible tom now, ain't ya?"

Tumble stood just a little taller at that. "'Course," he declared. _"And _I'm strong and brave. I help Munkustrap protect the borders all the time. You don't have to be scared of a thing, Miz Teazer. I'll protect you if those bad'uns come back!"

"Well, tha's just it, Tumb. I needs yew t'protect the little'uns whilst Jerr' an' I sees t'somefin _very _important. C'n yew do that?"

Tumble's face fell. "Kitsitting," he grumbled.

_"Protectin'," _Jerrie corrected. "There's danger about an' the kits're _countin' _on yew t'keep'em safe!"

_"Countin' _on yew," Teazer emphasized. "It's yer'ead if anyfin' 'appens!"

The tabby queen gulped, knowing perfectly well that _her _head was the one in danger here.


	37. Chapter 37

"He's _what?" _Munkustrap paced the floor agitatedly, feeling dangerously near being pushed over the edge of all sanity.

"Become the new leader of the henchcats," Tantomile repeated, quite calmly. Well, _someone _had to remain calm.

"It seems," Coricopat took up where his sister left off, "they are convinced he is some sort of all-powerful magical being who will show them the secret to…immortality. Like us, they have some idea of the Heaviside Layer and new lives, but…a bit different."

"I thought…" Munkustrap shook his head. "I thought it was dad—the Leader they were after; I thought they were convinced _he _would show them this…path-to-immortality."

"They were," Tantomile nodded. "Vitie put them off by inventing a tale about an object called the…" She frowned in bewilderment. "Philosopher's Stone." She shot a quizzical look at Quaxo, beside her.

"It's a human legend," the tuxedo tom put in helpfully. "Some bloke called Nick Flannel. I…_may _have suggested the idea in Mack's mind. Well, I've got to help him out _somehow, _haven't I."

"And exactly how long until the henches find out he _is _no wizard, there _is _no such Stone, and they mutiny and kill him and attack the junkyard yet again?" Munkustrap realized how panicked he sounded, but couldn't help himself.

"They need never find out," said Coricopat, "if he can keep up the pretense long enough."

"Long enough for _what?" _Munkustrap asked, though he had the feeling he knew where this was all headed.

The twins nodded at Quaxo, who resumed, "Long enough for me to build up enough strength to transport them all elsewhere, the way I did Griddlebone. Well, I've had practice with _one _at a time, but an entire group…" He grinned shakily. "That's a bit more…problematic."

"You're proposing to…to 'magick' _all _the henchcats away? The old established ones as well as this newer superstitious lot?" Munkustrap eyed Quaxo keenly. True, the younger tom had certainly proved himself capable of more than any of the Jellicles could ever have imagined. But if 'moving' only two cats had put him out like a light—and then, even upon waking, it had taken several days for him to regain his ability to walk without help—how could he be expected to 'move' an entire gang? Even if he could…would he survive it?

"It _is _a risk," Coricopat acknowledged, sensing the silver tabby's thoughts.

"Corks, Munk," Quaxo gulped, both embarrassed and profoundly moved by Munkustrap's obvious concern for his wellbeing, "it's not as if I had a death wish! I'll not try it too soon, but it's not _impossible. _I know that. I've got to work at it, that's all." He gave what he hoped was a reassuring nod.

Munkustrap looked to Tantomile as if for confirmation or denial. "He has the potential," Tantomile agreed, "but it _will _take time."

"How _much _time?" Already it seemed his brother had spent half his life among the henches on one pretext or another; already Jellicles were beginning to question his loyalties. Munkustrap was utterly sick of it all.

"He's promised the henches to find them this Stone thing within a year's time," said Quaxo, "so I'm intending to be ready by then…"

"Why did he go and promise a thing like _that?"_

"To…to buy himself time, I expect. He couldn't get them to abandon their former plan without promising _something." _

"And…" Munkustrap gulped, looking round at all of them. "And when there _is _no such Stone?"

"I expect they'll attempt kitnapping Old Deuteronomy again—thinking it's been long enough that we've let our guard down. Only we _won't," _Quaxo added. "We'll be prepared."

"And MacVitie," Munkustrap insisted; "what happens to _him _in the meanwhile?"

"He carries on pretending to be Macavity and perhaps even intimidating some of the henchcats into leaving town of their own free will." Quaxo ducked his head at Munk's highly-skeptical expression. "Well, you never know."

"How can he possibly keep up this pretense when—unless there's something he's not told me, which is _very _likely—he doesn't actually _have _any such powers as the henchcats think?"

Quaxo pointed a paw at himself. "I give him a bit of a boost once in a while, of course!"

_"While _learning to move multiple objects at once? Quaxo, are you the Everlasting Cat?"

"Oh," Quaxo waved a paw carelessly, "a few simple parlor tricks to help Mack out will take hardly any energy at all. And don't forget, he's also got Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer there with him to…well, keep him company, keep him sane, keep an eye on things and report back here occasionally…"

Munkustrap sighed. "Somehow I don't find that the greatest comfort on earth just now."


	38. Chapter 38

_Late Spring_

"'Lectra!"

The rust tortoiseshell queenkit detached herself from the larger group of kittens being herded into the 'recreation room,' a fancy term for the large storage closet that served as the kittens' play area.

The young queen gave a slight frown as she approached the older tabby queen who'd called her. "I don't _like _missing playtime," the queenkit fretted. "Da—Leader says it's important for kittens to play so they can 'grow up properly into contributing members of the tribe,'" she quoted, reciting a speech they'd all heard countless times.

"It's Leadah wot wants t'see ya," the tabby queen informed her. "Yew c'n miss yer playtime this once."

"More like the third time in a week," the kitten muttered.

"I'eard that. Now off with yer, luv."

"Milady," frowned the precocious kit, "endearments are unprofessional."

"'Scuse me. Be off with yer t'see his lordship the Leadah, then, Young 'Lectra," Rumpelteazer corrected herself, formal as you please.

Electra shot her mother a cheeky grin and a wink before moving off.

"'Profesh-nal,'" Teazer muttered to herself. "I don't see'ow it keeps us any safer jus' bein' so counfounded stuffy."

* * *

"Did you want me, Leader?"

"Come in, Young Electra. You have your orders—dismissed," the ginger tom added, waving his paw to release another henchtom, the only other feline present.

Once they were alone, the leader beckoned the rust queenkit closer. "Come here and tell me what sort of a day you've had."

"Is it relevant to the proper functioning of the tribe, milord?" Electra inquired.

MacVitie sighed. He had trained her well—_too _well. "Certainly it is. I need to know my members are contented with their lot. Mustn't have anycat harboring resentments and cooking up conspiracies, et cetera."

"In that case, Milord Leader, with all due respect, I don't mind expressing my frustration at being made to miss playtime."

"Noted, young one." He'd completely forgotten. He was, of course, the one who had mapped out the kittens' schedule to begin with, but the nursery-queens were the ones responsible for remembering and carrying it out. "I did not intend to disrupt your day, but only wished to speak with you for a moment."

"I am honored, Leader. But might speaking to one tribe-member so often be regarded as…favoritism?"

"I'll have favorites if I jolly well please," Mack growled, beginning to lose patience. "Electra. Just stop a moment and speak freely. There's no one else here for the moment."

"But there _could _be. _Nowhere _is safe, isn't that what you've taught me?"

"Only to make you take better care."

"And so I am. If anything goes amiss, it will not be _my _fault."

"Well done. In any case, it's your safety I wanted to speak with you about."

Electra frowned. "I told you. I'm not going anywhere without you and mum."

"It would only be for a short while," Mack urged, though he knew it would be useless. "You'd be with your grandfather and uncle and countless friends and relatives who would love and care for you until we arrived…"

"We all go or we all say," she repeated stubbornly.

For a moment, the two felines merely glared at one another. Mack broke the silence. "I could _force _you to go…"

"I'd just run away and come back. Besides, it's nearly summer, isn't it? Soon we'll _all _be going—you, mum, me, the other kits—what's so important about me going a few weeks earlier?" _Only three weeks until he had given his word to the henchcats that they could make another attempt on the Junkyard—if by then he had not got them the stone._ She looked searchingly into her father's face. "That _is _still the plan, isn't it? Nothing's…stopping it?"

He'd told her only as much as he felt she needed to know. "That is the plan…"

"Then," the kitten returned to her formal tone, "may I be dismissed, milord?"

"Dismissed, young one," MacVitie sighed. Electra bowed herself out like a good henchqueen.

"Socrates!" Mack called the feline who had been speaking to him before Electra entered. A large grey Siberian tom appeared in answer to the summons.

"Leader?"

"I am going to survey the excavation crew. The Lady will, of course, be in charge in my absence."

"Of course, milord."

* * *

_So much bloody pageantry, _Mack thought disgustedly as he meandered the deserted streets and alleyways, reflecting on all he and the twins had done to reach this point...

They had all agreed to it from the start, of course: MacVitie, Mungojerrie, and Rumpelteazer, advised by Quaxo, Coricopat, and Tantomile. (_What _was_ it with twins? _Mack often asked himself in exasperation. One set of twins had become his…life-guides, for lack of a better term; the other set had become his responsibility. Both sets had one way or another turned his world upside-down.) It was necessary to keep up some barrier, some level of separation between Mack and the ordinary henchcats, to maintain his authority and keep anyone from taking advantage—in much the same way as Growltiger and Griddlebone had done, only preferably without the killing and maiming. Milord Leader Macavity rarely backed up his authority with blows—only on one or two occasions, when directly challenged to single combat by skeptical henchcats who didn't believe the 'wild tales' of Griddlebone's disappearance, Mack's supposed 'powers,' and 'all this nonsense about some Stone of Immortality.' (Truthfully, Mack had at first been surprised there weren't even more challengers—but then, the new henchcats must hold some level of influence, as the ones who had managed to do away with Growltiger.) In both cases, Quaxo had slyly come to his aid—never again in the same way as he had (unknowingly) done when TB had been killed, but with harmless tricks that merely appeared frightening enough to make the challengers back down. Formidable as the Tiger and his lady had been, _they _had never brought magical powers into the mix, except when occasionally utilizing Gilbert's telepathic abilities. As such, however paltry the tricks might be, they _appeared_ the stuff of nightmares to the henches who had never before seen any such thing.

The challengers, of course, were sentenced to death for daring to speak out against the Leader's authority; but Lord Macavity mercifully reduced the sentences to imprisonment for life. (Mack fully intended to free them eventually. He knew what those cages were like.)

"I'm a cheat, a fake—can't even fight my own battles to defend myself," he'd vented to Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer on multiple occasions.

"Yer doin' wot y'must t'survive," Mungojerrie told him. "We _all_ are."

"An' personally," Rumpelteazer added, "I'm glad yew ain't no killah."

"Maybe. But I'll need more than tricks before this is over. D'you think that even if Quaxo learns to move an entire group at once, all the henches will cooperatively gather into one place at the proper time? There will be _some _sort of confrontation no matter what, and I'll _not _stand by useless while my friends fight and get killed!"

"So—er, wot yew aim t'do?" queried Teazer.

"I can't risk any of the _henches _knowing what a poor fighter I really am…"

"Ay, they'd take advantage fer sure," Jerrie agreed.

"So, Jerrie, _you've _got to help me."

So, late at night, when everyone else was either sleeping or at the _Bull and Bush, _the two toms would 'spar' for an hour or so. Neither much knew what he was doing, but Jerrie had at least _seen _more combat than Mack, and tried to recall and imitate what tactics had seemed effective. It wasn't perfect by any stretch, but it was better than nothing. Mack could think of no better solution—apart from allowing himself to go into a blind rage, which he absolutely refused to do ever again. He wanted to be able to _defend _himself, not tear another creature to shreds without realizing what he was doing until it was too late—as he nearly had to Jezza. No cat—not the cruelest of henches—deserved to be brutalized in that manner. Even if he had cared not a jot for that, the memory of the Demeter's and the other queens' expressions as they looked at him afterward would have been enough to stay him.

And now there was another feline he was determined to protect at all costs—not only from outside dangers, but from himself.

_Electra. _She had certainly not been part of the original plan.

Could Coricopat and Tantomile "see" her? Had they _foreseen _her?

At first, Mack had had no intention of bringing the thief twins back to the place which for so long they'd all been at such pains to escape. The henchcats had maneuvered _him_ into becoming their new 'chieftain,' but he'd not meant to bring anyone else into it. But naturally the two troublemakers had shown up just when they shouldn't have, and there'd been no stopping them. They insisted he needed them, they knew more about the henches than he ever had or could—which was all probably true.

What none of them had paused to consider was exactly how they would fit themselves into the _day-to-day_ matters of the gang. They couldn't simply shut themselves away—there was a good reason Growltiger had been terrified of conspirators. Mack would _have _to keep himself aware of what his newly inherited minions were up to at all times. Besides, the newer henches with their 'Secret to Immortality' fixation would be expecting him to keep _them_ informed of its progress.

Well, he had formed an 'excavation squad' to go digging around in an old demolished factory a ways down the street; he'd put Jerrie in charge. At the proper time, Jerrie would discover 'the Stone.' He would choose one at random, Quaxo would cause it to look Shiny or some such notion. It ought to buy them time; once the henches realized it had no powers at all, they would most likely storm the junkyard—but the Jellicles would be well prepared, and Quaxo would (hopefully) be ready to do his part… _If not…? _It would be a fight to the death, Mack supposed. Or Quaxo would manage some new deception and scare the henches off, buying time once again—but only until the next attack. And on it would go.

But supposing all went as it should, by Midsummer's night the henchcats would be gone and Mack and the twins and Electra could at last move on with their lives.

So much for Jerrie's role. Rumpelteazer became one of the kitten caretakers, and was meant to see that the kits were in fact well-treated and report to the Leader if they weren't. By night, she went out on 'collection detail'—a fancy term for burgling homes and restaurants, as she'd always used to do.

Trouble was, she wasn't a kitten any longer, to be sent about her duties and otherwise ignored. Plenty of the henchtoms had taken notice of her. When she never accompanied the other henchqueens to the nightly 'drinks and revels' at the _Bull and Bush, _some of the toms even saw this as a challenge and sought her out elsewhere. Once, a pair of them followed her on a thieving expedition, cornering her as she left the house. She'd set up a loud screeching before either could make a move, causing the humans to run out and investigate and the two henchtoms to flee.

From then on, Rumpel feared to go out thieving alone. Yet she hated to ask her brother, knowing how occupied he was with the 'stone-finding' and getting himself and MacVitie in as near fighting fit condition as possible. But at last their supplies began to seriously dwindle, henches complained of sparser rations, and both Mack and Jerrie could see something was the matter. She'd finally had to tell them what had happened—nearly happened—and, as she'd predicted to herself, both were ready to hunt the henchtoms down and throttle them without further discussion. She'd talked them down from such a dangerously rash action, but Mack went about it 'properly' and had the two culprits locked up until further notice. "Understand," he informed the gathered henchcats, _"they _have got off very easily. It would not be the same for any additional offenders. My Lady Rumpelteazer is not some common henchqueen here for your entertainment, but is my equal in every sense. You _will _treat her with the honor and respect due her rank and position. Or there will be a reckoning. That is all. You will have no second warning. Dismissed." He retreated to his private quarters, the twins following.

Mack sat down, heaving an exhausted sigh. "How was that?"

"Quite a speech. Yer gettin' good at this," Jerrie chuckled nervously. "'S a bit scary."

"Not sure if I can take that as a compliment or not, Jerr'. In any case, think you can manage to do some collecting at night?"

"Sure, sure. Can't dig fer stones er fight wit' yew _constantly_, can I?"

"Jerr', yer gonna exhaust yerself," Teazer objected.

"Better'n somefin' happenin' t'yew," her brother said firmly.

"I really fink Mackey scared'em enough…"

"We'll not take chances," said Mack. "You can sleep here if you want. I'll guard the entrance." He eyed Rumpelteazer searchingly, uncertainly. "Unless—were we too—er, hasty? Did you…_want _their attentions?"

"'Ow can yew ask _that?" _Teazer demanded, for some reason having to struggle to keep back tears. "D'yew know me not at _all _after all this time? After—after all we've been through?" She sat herself down on the old rug Mack used for a bed and turned her back on the two toms. "The Lady's ready ta retire," she announced, in the most formal tones she could muster. "'Tis near dark any'ow," she added, more naturally, "an' the othah queens c'n see fer th' kits. G'night." She waved a paw imperiously, and both toms fled the den as if it were in flames. It was only after she'd got the makeshift 'door' in place, covering the den's entrance, that Teazer called from the other side, "'T may int'rest yew t'know, Milord Leadah, that yew jus' tol' the'enches, 'This's my mate, keep yer sticky paws off.' But no worries, milord Leadah, I'll not'old yew to't. Since I'm so disgustin' to ya." Not a peep was heard from her the rest of the evening.

Face redder than his coat, Mack turned desperately to Jerrie. "Did…did I say…that?"

"Er, er," Jerrie blustered, "which paht? That she's…that yew'n Teazer's…er…er that yew fink she's disgustin'?"

"Uh, ehm, I don't know…either one."

"W-ell… As t'the fuhst, it…er…it certainly sounded like y'might be…hintin' at such a fing? So's t'keep the othahs away? Er, an' the second…y' nevah _said _so, but y'know queens needs y'to actually _say _they's pretty, not just _not _say they's disgustin'. Er…so I'ear."

"Uh…do _you _have a mate?"

"A mate? 'Ere? Sure, sure, I s'pose some'f the'enchqueens ain't bad sorts, but…'Twould be awkward, innit? When ev'ry'un'ere wants t'murder our friends?"

"Teazer doesn't."

"She's me _sistah!"_

"No, no—I didn't mean—you two—I meant—she and I—what if—well, after all, we've known each other a long time…"

Mungojerrie shook his head, heaving a loud sigh. "Mackey. Us'n's bein' in a life-er-death situation'ere, it's no good beatin' about the bush, I s'pose. So lemme be frank. Teazah…all I know's she's'ad 'er cap set fer yew evah since we was babbies. But _yew _allus seem'd to'ave _yers _set fer…fer some'un else…"

"That…it's never…we were never…Well, if we ever were…there's no chance, now, we don't even know each other any longer…"

Jerrie came nearer and waved his fist under Mack's nose for emphasis. "Me point is, this's a question on'y yew an' Teazah c'n settle. Bu' Mackey… Yer me greatest friend, an' so y'should know I'm perfec'ly sincere… If'n yew breaks'er 'eart… I'll break yer face." The tiger tom lowered his fist and backed out of the room, bowing awkwardly, though his face retained its serious expression and MacVitie knew he'd meant every word. "I'll see t' collection now… Leadah."

Jerrie, like any good brother, had considered his sister's feelings first and foremost. He _hadn't _considered much beyond that.


	39. Chapter 39

MacVitie came upon the 'excavation squad' at the old demolished factory. Mungojerrie was both supervising and getting his own paws dirty digging around. Naturally he would be the one to 'discover' the Stone.

Catching Jerrie's eye as he straightened a moment to stretch his back and wipe sweat from his brow, Mack jerked his head to summon the tiger tom. Wouldn't suit 'Milord Leader's dignity to simply go around yelling, 'Jerrie!'

"How goes the search?" Mack inquired.

"No leads yet, Leadah…" Mungojerrie had to pause and cover a laugh with a fake sneeze. No matter how dire the situation, evidently he couldn't kick the habit of snickering over everything and nothing… "But we'll find it, rest assured." Jerrie lowered his voice. "Er, er… _when _exactly sh'ld that be?"

"A bit less than three weeks."

"I'm, er, ah'm, not sure there's enough rubble left'ere t'last that long…"

"Better find a new site, then. I'll have a look around the neighborhood whilst I'm…out and about."

"Yew…yew gonna go see'er?"

"I've _got _to know what's going on with her. Jerr', I can't focus for thinking of it."

"Jus' mind'ow y'go. 'Twouldn't do fer the Lord Leadah t'be seen…" He lowered his voice even further. "…At'is mum's 'ouse."

"The Leader can do as he pleases," Mack declared, loudly and imperiously. "I'll be careful," he muttered for Jerrie's ears only.

* * *

He had heard gossip among the henchqueens—or, rather, Rumpelteazer had heard the gossip and had repeated it to him. Her first thought had been to keep it from her mate as long as possible; he had enough to keep him fretted for life as it was. But upon further consideration, Teazer had realized that one way or another he would most likely hear _something; _better it should come from her, and he wouldn't thank her for remaining silent on the subject for any length of time.

Bella had been seen hanging about the _Bull and Bush _again—occasionally attempting to strike up conversation with the henchcats, more often seated alone at some corner table weeping into a dish of milk. Lily LaRose had at last flat-out banned Bella from her pub, for she 'lowered the mood of the whole place.'

"Fr'm their talk, Vitie…she don't…seem t'look very well," Teazer confided.

MacVitie was overwhelmed with remorse. He'd not seen his mother since the night he had poured out his troubles to her like a frightened kit, and she had responded by going on about what a dreadful feline she was and ended by advising him to do exactly as Griddlebone had told him.

And so he had. And his brother had nearly been killed. Yet if he'd refused… Admetus and Rumpelteazer would have been the ones killed.

No, he could not resent his mother for it. And he blamed himself for her current state, for hadn't he noticed something was dreadfully wrong with her even then? And yet he'd left her on her own and not sought her out again until hearing the rumors. Of course, there had been a myriad of _other_ matters occupying his time…

In any case, he now sought her out in the only place he could think of, apart from the pub (where she was now banned) and the Junkyard (where he didn't trust himself until the right time, and somehow doubted she'd be there in any case): her humans' flat.

He scanned the doors, seeking out the kitty flap with the telltale 'P' printed on.

Bella lay on the front step, appearing to be asleep, but her eyes snapped open and she jumped up to her feet as MacVitie approached. _Never was much good at stealth._

The older queen appeared panicked, glancing from side to side as if seeking an escape, and it occurred to Mack she might not actually recognize him. Teazer had more than once mourned the state of his once-neatly-kept ginger coat, especially how long and unkempt it had grown around the ears, and had offered (begged and/or demanded, more like) to smooth it out for him. But Mack and Jerrie had insisted it helped with 'intimidation factor.' Mack could use all the help he could get with that. Briefly the thought struck him that Electra had never seen her father's fur in any state _other _than neglected and sticking out every which way. When this was all over and he finally had time for such things as grooming, would cleaning up his appearance render him unrecognizable to his own kit?

He stopped a fair distance from the step so Bella wouldn't feel cornered. "Mum…it's me."

The grey queen gasped. "Not…Vitie?"

Mack bit his lip, wondering what she'd heard about him, bracing himself for her to turn on the waterworks like the last time.

But contrary to his expectations, no tears were forthcoming for the moment. Indeed, once she realized she was in no danger, she lowered herself back onto the step, as if even the small space she would need to cross in order to close the distance between them would take too much effort. "Come here," she murmured, "and tell me where you've been keeping yourself."

She didn't sound overly concerned—only weary, as if he were a kit again, come to confess some minor misdeed that weighed so heavily on his mind he had to wake her up to tell her about it. She sounded as if speaking, too, cost an incredible effort on her part.

Approaching closer, he realized it might be true. His mother appeared ragged, ancient—he even fancied he could detect a rattle in her chest when she drew breath.

"Mum," he gasped, "what's…what's happened to you?"

"I might ask _you _the same question," she said evasively. "In fact, I believe I did."

"Well…I'm—that is, we've been…" He cast about for something to say that wouldn't be too shocking in her seemingly-fragile state. Though she seemed so lethargic, perhaps she was incapable of grasping anything extensively enough to _be _shocked. And surely she had heard at least _something _at the _Bull and Bush_? "Mum…have you heard…what's been happening? Have you heard any news at home, or…anywhere else?"

"Home?" Bella echoed, as if the word were foreign to her.

"Back at the Junkyard." His heart pounded. "You _have _been back there?"

She was silent for a long while. Just when he was considering repeating the question, she spoke at last.

"Once…for a short time…never again."

"Mum! Why? What do you mean?"

"They…they know."

"Who knows what?"

"Everyone. Everything. Growltiger, the Glamour Cats, Plato and Admetus…That it's my fault you ever got mixed up with…with _him _and his lot…"

"Mum, it's _not _your fault! It was…" Belatedly, he remembered to lower his voice. "It was Growltiger and Griddlebone's. And they…they're gone. You know that, don't you? You're free of them at last."

"But _you _aren't," Bella said, abruptly turning the conversation onto him once more. "I _have _heard something…rumours… Oh, Vitie, how is it that you're _still _mixed up in all of this?" At least she sounded _slightly _livelier than she had a moment ago.

"It's…part of a plan." Mack tried to sound more confident than he felt. "The situation is temporary. It was necessary for a time, but soon we'll be— Mum…when you say 'they all know'… Was it you yourself who told them?"

"I told…your father. Most of it he knew, of course; the rest he had guessed, but I _had _to speak it all aloud to him once and for all, clear the air, I—I couldn't bear it anymore. Of course he put his arms around me and told me he had long since forgiven everything, even suggested I wasn't to blame at all, and should not live in shame any longer…"

"And he's _right," _MacVitie insisted. _"Listen _to him, Mum. Go back. It may be difficult at first, but things will soon settle down, you've just got to give it a chance. Once…once I've…done what I have to do, I'll be back too—along with Jerrie and Teazer and a group of new kits to join the tribe, and…" He thought of something that might spark her interest. "And one of them's my daughter. Mum, you have a grandkit. Her name's Electra, and I've been telling her about the Junkyard and everyone, and that we only had to hold out for a while until we could go home," he babbled on, hoping to see some sort of change or interest in her countenance. Bella's expression, however, remained unchanged. She didn't even bat an eyelid at the mention of one of her sons' having a kit of his own. MacVitie's shoulders slumped in disappointment. But then, he reminded himself, Bella never had been much interested in kits. "Everything would eventually go back to normal," he finished lamely.

"I thought—hoped—so too," Bella sighed. "But then…I made the grave mistake of…asking your father to tell the others for me. I…I wanted to put an end to all the secrets once and for all, not just between him and me, but between me and everyone else as well…"

He grasped her paw, hoping to encourage her. "It was brave of you, Mum."

"Brave," she laughed bitterly, "but I wasn't brave enough to tell them myself. Vitie, your father… I trust you know this, but he is so… There is no feline on earth as good as he. He got the story out gradually, telling each Jellicle individually, in the gentlest way possible. All except…your brothers. Your father and I _had_ to tell them together, it was only right, he said, and I agreed. Plato and Admetus were present too, of course, as it involved them…"

Mack's breath caught in his throat, imagining his brothers' reactions. He knew Munkustrap had already known much of their mother's past, but the revelation of Plato and Admetus's parentage must have been shocking, to say the least. And knowing she had discarded them… He certainly couldn't see Admetus, at any rate, taking it well. "What…what did they say?"

"No one…said much of anything. Plato and Munkustrap each took my paw and laid their cheeks against mine—but coldly, as if from a sense of duty, as if they only did so because Deuteronomy had instructed them to…"

"Dad would never give _orders_ about such things, you know that…"

"Perhaps not, but it's the sign of forgiveness he would have wished for, and clearly they did it for _his_ sake, not mine… I can understand the young ones, I've no claim on _their_ affection, but for even my Munk to treat me as a stranger…"

"He was shocked and hurt, mum… You know how he dotes on kits, and the thought of their being abandoned—his own kin, no less— But he'll forgive you, I know it," Mack hastened on, not wishing to reopen the wound, "and as to treating you like a stranger—time is the only remedy for that." He hesitated. "You've…not mentioned…Tugger's or Admetus's responses."

"Admetus… He wouldn't touch my paw, but bowed stiffly in my direction and then excused himself…"

Mack nodded. It was no more than he had expected… "Tugger?"

Bella covered her face with her paws. "He…wouldn't even look me in the eye," she whispered. "Before your father had even finished speaking, he…he turned his back and walked away."

Mack's fist clenched at his side. "What reason does _he _have for taking it any worse than the others—for not even having the decency to stay and _listen… _To walk away from you _and _Dad…"

"No, Vitie, no, you mustn't blame him…I think he remembers more than any of you…even guessed at what was happening, long before I told anyone…"

MacVitie had to admit to himself that he had probably underestimated his eldest brother at every turn. _People think I don't see things, but I do, _Tugger had said. How true was it? Just how far did it go? How long had Tugger been playing the 'air-headed superstar,' just to cover up his hurt at the destruction he saw within his own family before it was detected by either of his younger brothers? Until now, when at last these terrible matters were being spoken aloud…it was too late, Tugger's bitterness and anger had become a hardened shell that encased his heart, deafening him to his mother's pleas, keeping him from truly getting close to anyone…perhaps he never would settle down with a mate because he feared abandonment... Mack's stomach lurched at the thought that he himself had helped contribute to that bitterness by constantly fighting with Tugger or brushing him off rather than even attempting to understand him. No wonder he and Tugger might have nearly killed one another without thinking twice…

He shivered. "But Mum… You mustn't let that keep you away… You must keep trying; now that you've spoken the words aloud, there can be reconciliation…it'll just…take longer with some than with others, that's all…" And the same would be true for him when he got back…_if_ he got back…

"Vitie…" Bella shook her head. "I can't."

"But if you…" Abruptly, Mack stopped and turned his head to the side, listening intently. He thought he'd heard something, some rustling nearby. Too late, he realized what a foolish move that had been and that he ought to have appeared unconcerned; now whoever-it-was would know he was onto them... Of course, it might just be a neighbor's dog…

"Vitie…?" Bella looked at him questioningly.

"Get inside," he hissed. When his mother hesitated, he actually took her arm and began helping her up the steps. "It's probably nothing," he said, belatedly feigning nonchalance, "but just in case…stay inside while I go look in the next garden. Just as a matter of interest, have they got a dog?"

"I—I think so."

"Good, then. That's probably what it was. I'll just go see…"

"Vitie, pollicles are nothing to be trifled with!"

"Oh, I'll be fine. Haven't you heard I'm now the scariest thing in town?"


	40. Chapter 40

MacVitie crept up to the wooden fence separating Bella's humans' garden from the next one over. First, he put his ear against the fence and listened. _Nothing. _Just as he was considering how to get himself over the fence without ending up trapped in the yard with an enraged pollicle, a paw reached out and pulled him into the hedge growing nearby.

"Shuttup," hissed whoever-it-was—unnecessarily, as MacVitie had forced himself not to shout out and broadcast his alarm. No matter what, it would be disastrous to alert his mother and cause her to run out and become mixed up in this confrontation. "Just what d'you think you're doing?" the other creature went on. Squinting in the dusky light permitted by the foliage, MacVitie at last recognized the unmistakable face and form of Carbuckety.

"What am _I_—just what d'_you _think you're doing?" Mack exclaimed—or as nearly as one _can _'exclaim' whilst whispering.

The younger tom rolled his eyes. "Saving you from ruining everything, apparently—though it may be too late for that."

"What are you _talking_ about? Does anyone know you're here?"

"Irrelevant, but since you ask—Coricopat and Tantomile do, no doubt. Do they approve? Probably not, but they also know they can't really _stop_ me, unless they intend to have me locked up somewhere, which would make them no better than the henchcats. Mum and Munk are too occupied with Jemi to bother much about me at the mo—say, _stop _putting me off the point! This is serious! The henchcats know…"

"If you've been listening in on Coricopat, Tantomile, and Quaxo, as no doubt you _have _been, you know the plan. Can't you just leave us to see it through? Why've you got to butt in and put yourself in danger?"

"That's what I'm trying to _tell _you, if you'll quit interrupting! Your so-called 'minions' are onto you." Bucky gestured impatiently in the direction of Bella's humans' house. "Probably because of stunts like _this. _Did you _really _think no one would notice?"

"What—how—how do you know?"

"The moon twins sensed 'unrest,' so I sniffed about the warehouse and listened in on a thing or two and it's pretty clear that, whether they know _everything _or not, your would-be pals know you've not got their best interests at heart. And they're not aiming to wait around much longer to find out if they're right."

"But—my powers…what happened to TB…"

"Oh, I'm sure _some _of'em are still moronic enough to believe in your 'powers' and be afraid of you, but it doesn't take an entire gang to form a rebellion, does it?" He snorted. "Especially now that you've given them such an obvious hold over you."

"Hold…? What— Electra!" Mack gasped, and would have made a dash for it then and there if Carbuckety hadn't seized his arm to recall his attention.

"No need to fret about _her, _she's well on her way to the 'yard by now…"

"But _how…?" _

"Sorry, Mack, but some plans have better success when _you're _not involved."

"Is that so?" Mack folded his arms.

"Yes! You get distracted! Exhibit A." Again Carbuckety gestured towards the house.

"She's not a 'distraction,' she's a Jellicle and my _mother _and has just as much bearing on the situation as anything else."

"She's not..."

"I suggest you choose your next words with extreme caution, kit."

It was difficult to tell in the shadows cast by the foliage, but Mack thought he saw Carbuckety's lip curl up disdainfully. Did _everyone_ feel the same as Tugger, even the kittens? "Her _life_ is not in immediate danger," Buck proceeded icily, "and so she doesn't require your immediate attention. That's all I meant." But clearly it wasn't.

"Fine. So continue explaining the part of the plan that's been going on _behind my back."_

"Not much to it," Buck shrugged, "just that as soon as they learnt of the kit's existence, the twins meant to smuggle her out one way or another. Now seemed none too soon."

"Did Jerrie and Teazer know?"

"Jerrie, yes. Teazer, no."

"So everyone's aware but her own parents. Brilliant."

"It _is_ brilliant, you dolt. Neither of _you_ was getting anywhere with persuading her to leave. And now when the henches try to take her hostage, she won't _be _there and neither you nor Teazer will know a thing about it. Er. Well, now _you_ do. But you didn't. And I'm not _actually_ telling you where she's gone..."

"Of course not, only heavily implying it…not that it matters how much we know or don't know, the henches could still—" He started as something else occurred to him. "Did you happen to consider that if Electra disappeared, the first assumption would be that _Teazer's _responsible? And that…" His eyes widened. "They'll try to get the information out of her whether she has it or no, _and _likely take her hostage instead…"

"'Course they will. But Teazer's pretty well able to take care of herself, hey? Or at least better able than a kitten would be. Besides, what's she got _you _for? I hope you prove less useless in helping her than you seem just at the moment…"

_"Shut up!" _Mack snarled, no longer caring who heard, "now you're just wasting my time. I've got to get back and— but tell me this, is the rest of the plan still the same, or have you all changed _that _on me too?"

"Same on _our _part," Carbuckety shrugged. _"You're _the one what might find yourself having to change. We'll try to adapt accordingly. I'll continue keeping an eye on things, of course…"

"You're _impossible. _I'm off. If you get yourself captured, don't come crying to _me. _Oh, and if you talk to the twins, see to it they understand that if _anything _happens to Electra, it's their necks."

Carbuckety threw him a mock salute. "Ay, milord Macavity."

Mack let out a snort, pushing his way out of the bushes without further comment. Chancing a brief glance at the house, he saw no sign of his mother; she must have stayed inside. He regretted not being able to return to her and explain, but there was no time—and how much _could _he explain, anyway, without endangering her? No, he'd have to sort things with her when this whole bloody mess was all over. If they all survived it.

He hurried back to the warehouse.


	41. Chapter 41

"My father sent for you, didn't he? _Didn't _he? I thought he might try smuggling me out one of these days, but to go behind my back and get someone _else…"_

Electra had offered little resistance to the pair of matched felines who'd shown up and insisted she accompany them. Somehow, though she couldn't explain it, she'd known just from looking at them that they were from that Junkyard place Macavity talked about as if it were Heaviside on earth. Which meant they were some of his friends. Which meant that she _couldn't _let the henchcats notice them or there'd be trouble; for their own safety, she told herself, she'd go with them…but she'd come back, first opportunity she found.

It didn't stop her from loudly complaining once they were well away from the warehouse. "This is the most low-down, sneaky trick I ever…"

"He did not send for us," interrupted the queen.

"Come _off _it, of course he—"

"Young one," cut in the tom in a much sharper tone, ignoring his sister's disapproving glance, "kindly shut up."

That shocked Electra into silence for the moment. No one had ever said such a thing to her, as far as she could recollect. Oh, they all shouted at each _other _plenty, but no one dared shout at _her _or they'd be sure to get into trouble with the Leader. And his Lady was always watching to be certain they always treated Electra with respect.

"We _are_ friends of your father's," the queen explained more gently. "I am Tantomile, and this is Coricopat. We are…"

"Twins, even a blind cat could see _that," _Electra chortled. "You look even more alike than my mum and _her _twin!"

"This is no time for silliness," Coricopat glared. "I understood you had acquired more discipline in that…place, than you are presently displaying."

Electra waved a paw dismissively. "If you mean all the bowing and scraping and big words—that's totally for the henches." Her face grew horrified. "Or does everyone do that in the junkyard as well and get in trouble for nothing?"

"Please, Cori," Tantomile placed a placating paw on her brother's shoulder, "she's only a kit, remember, and we're safe enough for the moment…"

Coricopat blew out a long sigh. "I am concerned for the safety of your father and mother and our other friends," he offered Electra by way of apology.

"So'm I," she shrugged, then frowned. "So…why have you taken me away?"

"Safety," Coricopat repeated, as if stating the obvious.

"But it makes no odds if _I'm _safe when my parents are still in danger! I want to _help!"_

"The best help you can give them is to keep out of the way," he told her bluntly. The two stood toe-to-toe glaring at each other for a moment.

"Anyway," Electra resumed, "what makes you think the danger is _that_ bad? True, I always figured the others would be mighty put out with Dad for abandoning the tribe, but it's not as if he had no defenses. Besides, they won't dare try anything _too _drastic, no matter _what _he does. You've heard of his powers, haven't you? They're all awfully afraid of his powers, and so they might protest a little, and _some _of'em might fight, but he'll soon deal with _them _and walk away with no problem. And if they should think of following us to the 'yard and trying anything, why—he can just use his powers again." She grinned. "Hope you all know that with my dad around, we'll none of us have to worry about predators or much of anything else really. 'Course, he hardly ever uses'em—he's afraid of 'abusing his powers,' whatever _that _means. So he and Mum _have _always made me be careful how I talk and what I say, in case any of the henches should get angry and try anything and make Dad have to kill'em. He hates killing. Actually, he never _has _killed, only threatened to—mostly he just locks people up when they're bad and lets'em out later." She shrugged, as if all this were the most normal thing in the world. Tantomile listened to her with a pained expression. Of course she had known Mack couldn't fully shield his daughter from the henchcats' ways, and there was only so much he could change without having a rebellion on his paws; even still, it was difficult to hear. "So, you see," Electra concluded, "there's really not anything much to worry about, maybe a small scuffle and that's it. But I might have known my parents'd be paranoid and send me away anyway."

"Actually it wasn't their idea at all," Tantomile said carefully, exchanging a worried look with her brother. _Then MacVitie hasn't fully explained the nature of his 'powers.' Ought _we _be the ones to tell her? _

"Then why come and get me at _all?" _Electra exclaimed, stamping a paw. "Now they'll think I've been kitnapped or…"

"No, we've sent another of our friends to tell your father," said Coricopat.

"But why poke your noses in without even being _asked?" _fumed the queenkit, on the verge of simply turning and running back the way they'd come. "Shouldn't _I _have some say in this?"

Coricopat looked appealingly at his sister, as if at a loss how to proceed. Electra smirked, figuring she'd _really _stumped them now, and they'd just have to take her back and quit interfering.

But then Tantomile told her, "There's much more danger than you or your parents realize. The henchcats are divided as to their feelings about your father, and some of them plan to rebel, rather than wait for—"

"And like I said, my dad can _deal _with it," Electra interrupted. "Anyway, how can you _know _that?"

Coricopat and Tantomile looked at each other. "Well…"

"Don't tell me," Electra rolled her eyes. "You're psychic."

"Yes," Coricopat answered simply.

Electra shook her head in disbelief. "You're just saying that so I'll go with you…"

"Then how did we know your name? Besides," Tantomile pointed out, "you believe in your father's powers."

"Lightning powers are one thing, _mind _powers are completely different," said Electra obstinately.

"There is…no logic in that whatsoever," Coricopat said, gaping at her. In some ways this queenkit seemed wise beyond her years; in others, she seemed a complete and utter dolt. Knowing Tantomile wouldn't like it, but seeing no alternative, he reached out to the kitten's mind. _You just might want to start listening to us, unless you wish to end up dead. _

Electra jumped, letting out a small squeak. She glanced back and forth between the twins. Leaning over to Tantomile she whispered, "How…how did he…say that without moving his mouth?"

"He said it in your mind," Tantomile informed her, though looking disapprovingly at her brother. "Ordinarily we do not do that to cats without permission, unless they are enemies, but…he evidently saw no other way of convincing you."

"And…you can do that with _anyone?_ You can speak to them or...or hear them?"

"Only if they are open-minded—either from willingness to hear us, or simple innocent lack of awareness of any need to hide anything. Most cats have some barriers up. For example, we can catch the gist of the henchcats' intentions, but cannot delve into their innermost thoughts—to the point of hearing or sending full sentences."

"I force myself not to say certain things out loud around the henchcats all the time," Electra confided, awe-struck by this whole concept, "but I never thought about needing to guard my _mind. _What if one of _them _is psychic too, and is using that against my dad? Can you tell anything about that?"

_Can we tell you once we get to the Junkyard? Or do you still not believe us that there's anything the matter?_

"Stop that, Cori," Tantomile scolded.

"I actually find it fascinating," Electra giggled, albeit somewhat nervously. "Fine," she sighed, "you've convinced me I should at least hear what you have to say. I'll come with you. But," she threatened, "if I decide my parents need me more than I need to be 'safe' at the 'yard, just you _try _and stop me going back…"

"You're the one who keeps saying they can _handle _everything," said Coricopat.

"And _you're _the one," Electra countered, "trying to convince me they _can't." _

"Just listen to the pair of you," Tantomile sighed. "Let's get moving."


	42. Chapter 42

MacVitie's first inclination as he returned to the warehouse was to call for Rumpelteazer. However, he resisted, reflecting how foolish that would be—seeing as the last time he'd burst into the warehouse screaming for his friends, he'd ended up conked over the head and thrown into a cage, which helped no one. Besides, who said the henchcats planned to rebel _today?_ They might still be scheming and waiting an opportune time, which would only change if Mack let on that he knew. If only he could remember Carbuckety's _exact _words, but he'd found it difficult to pay attention to anything once he caught onto the fact that his daughter could be in danger. But if Carbuckety had his story straight, she ought to be safely away now—_if _Coricopat and Tantomile (for he assumed they would be the ones) had successfully got her to go with them, and _if_ they had all got away undetected. Which shouldn't have been too difficult—_if _she'd cooperated. _That's a lot of "ifs." _He was beginning to regret not thinking to stop at the factory ruins and fetch Mungojerrie; but that would have caused an additional delay. Now if something _did _happen, it would be he and Teazer—and perhaps a few remaining loyal superstitious henches—against everyone. Not exactly good odds.

He glanced around, trying to decide where to go first, while at the same time trying _not _to look indecisive. Should he avoid his own quarters—would _that _be the most likely place for an ambush, if there were to be one?

What he wanted to do first was determine if Electra were really gone and if Teazer were safe—for surely they'd go after _her_ next if they couldn't get Electra. _Where is she at this time of day… _With the kittens. It would look strange, the Leader coming to the kittens' play area, which was generally a queens-and-kits-only area; but there was nothing for it. If they already planned to overthrow him, did it much _matter_ what he did at this point? Apart from delaying the inevitable by feigning ignorance…

As Mack entered the play area, he heard Teazer audibly gasp before recovering herself. She must realize that his being here most likely meant something was amiss. "Why, Vit—Milord Leadah! We…" She glanced round at the other nursery queens. "We's honored by yer visit. Kits're all 'ealthy, doin' well, thrivin', an'—fer the moment—behavin'." She looked again at the others as if to back up her assertions. "Righ'?"

The others mainly shrugged and murmured vague replies. But one spoke over the others, "I must say, milady, I'm beginning to feel some concern for _your_ young one, the respected Young Electra. When was it you sent her on an errand—nearly an hour ago? She ought to have been back by now." Her tone was respectful and her expressions correct—perhaps _too _correct. Or was Mack simply paranoid? As he looked for who had spoken, he did a double-take.

Though her face still bore the scars of their battle, she was unmistakably the Lady Jezza.

While he'd known for some time that she had in fact survived, and more or less assumed she had remained a part of the henchcat gang, actually _seeing_ her for the first time since that day sent a shock through his system. Forcing himself to meet her eyes, he saw there what he'd expected—hatred. But there was something else, as well: respect. Again he was reminded what mattered most here among the henchcats: sheer physical strength. Mack had injured Jezza, and so she hated him; but he'd proved himself a worthy opponent, earning her respect as well. Of course, he had yet to truly prove himself to any of the other henchcats; with them, it had all been manipulation through intimidation and magic tricks. According to Carbuckety, the effectiveness of those methods was rapidly wearing thin… Was Jezza mentioning Electra's prolonged absence simply as a matter of concern, or was this some sort of test and she was meant to report the Leader's reaction back to the others?

"Ay, that's true," Teazer nodded, allowing the briefest look of concern to cross her face before concealing it. "P'rap's I'd best go look for'er…"

"Lady Teazer," Mack interrupted in as firm and steady a voice as he could muster, "when are you going to leave off coddling that kit? She's not an infant any longer, and everycat here has got to be able to find its own way around and defend itself. I see no reason the kits shouldn't start learning that now." From the corner of his eye, he saw a kit lose its balance and come tumbling down off a pile of boxes. Automatically, his paw darted out to break the kit's fall. "Which one is this?" he asked, feigning unconcern, trying to buy time as he considered what to do or say next.

"Er, I calls'im George, Leadah." One of the first things Mack had done upon taking over the hench gang was to do away with Griddlebone's "no naming" rule. _How am I to be expected to dole out orders or differentiate between a load of nameless nobodies? _The other caretaker queens had yet to really take to this new development, so Teazer had become more or less established as the unofficial "namer."

"George," he repeated, setting the tomkit back onto his feet. George ran off and almost immediately tripped over thin air, knocking into another kit and bringing them both down into a tangled heap on the floor. "Well, teach the clumsy young thing better balance," he told the group in general. "Can't have the kits growing up into useless bumbling apes." He met Teazer's eye, and gestured to her to follow him. "A word, milady." If the henches were getting ready to make a move, it didn't seem likely to come from _this _quarter. The caretaker queens were either unaware of any plan or awaited some signal. Meanwhile he may as well do what he could to prepare Teazer.

As he and Teazer left the area, his ears flitted back to catch a few snatches of whispered conversation:

_"Y'hear that, Jezz? Evidently you only knows how to produce 'useless bumbling apes.'"_

_"They's _all _useless bumbling apes till they grows out of it."_

_"Ay, but recall how yer last one got herself stuck in a drain an' drowned."_

_"What makes you think that'un was mine, or this George pipsqueak, for that matter? No one knows…"_

_"Oh, c'mon, no need for _those _games any longer, he's not like the Lady…"_

_"The understatement of the year."_

_"Soft's a feather pillow, that'un." _

_"So why d'we foller him?"_

_"Because he's unpredictable. There are times… Besides, it's only until we hear otherwise…" _

"Bit o'restlessness in the ranks is all," Teazer shrugged with a rueful grin as they stepped outside. But her grin faded as she studied the expression on Mack's face. "Or…mebbe that's _not _all? Wot's t'do, Vit—" She glanced around and lowered her voice. "Leadah?"

"Well, we… _may _not have three more weeks like we thought. Evidently…some of the henches are no longer…convinced, and don't mean to just sit around and see what _we _plan to do."

To his surprise, Rumpelteazer took this much more calmly than he'd anticipated. "Well, 'tis unfortunate, bu'…'scuse me, I can't say's I'm shocked."

Mack's ears flattened. "How d'you mean?"

She reached out her paw to playfully flick at his ear, then quickly drew it back in case anyone should be watching. "Don' look like _that, _luv'_. _It's on'y as I've said all along: yew ain't no criminal nor never could be. 'Teach 'im bettah balance'? An' as if _that _weren't enough—breakin' the kit's fall? The Tiger'd've chucked'im in the Thames as soon's look at'im."

"All my fine frightening speeches…"

"I've'eard lectures fr'm Miz Jenny an' Miz Jelly that were scarier."

"Perhaps, being the experienced criminal you are, _you _should have become the new hench leader."

"Ay, an' I'd've been bloody good at it too. Bu' that's beside th' point. If'n they's _gonna_ make a move, well—we've gotta be ready, that's all. On'y tell me…" She gulped. "Is 'Lectra safe?"

"She's safe. Coricopat and Tantomile have seen to that, or so I gather."

"Might've _known _they'ad sommat t'do wif it. All th' times _we've_ tried t' convince'er," Teazer shook her head wonderingly, "an' then she goes off wif complete strangers? Wonder'ow they did it."

"Some mystical trick, no doubt." _Or just the unaccountable propensity for kittens to listen to _anyone _but their own parents. _

"Bu' now the thing is…d'we change our plans, er jus'…let wotever's to'appen…'appen, an' adapt as needed?"

"I say we…we don't lose our heads and be the first to let on that we know anything's changed," Mack rushed on, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I mean, let's keep up the pretense as long as _they _do."

"Tha'…sounds a sensible enough plan. Bu' d'we know anyfin' as to times? Exac'ly wot've yew'eard?"

"I've—"

"Leadah! Look'ere, look'ere!"

MacVitie turned, startled, at the sound of Mungojerrie's voice. The tiger-striped tom skidded to a stop in front of the other two and leaned over, panting, to catch his breath. Meanwhile, he extended his arm to drop something into Mack's paw. "Quick, take it, take it!" he gasped, "b'fore they…"

"Jerrie," Mack frowned, "what in Heaviside is…"

_"Lookit _it," Jerrie urged. "Milord, Oi fink this's the _one!" _Lowering his voice, he leaned over to hiss in Mack's ear, "Lissen, change o'plans, you've gotta go, _now. _I've'eard…"

"I know," Mack interrupted, "and _you _can go if you like, but I'm not going anywhere just yet."

"But…"

"I'm not leaving the kits. And if they're carrying on with their plan to capture my father, I'm staying to find out as much as I can about it." He bent to examine the object Jerrie had handed him. Just an ordinary rock—or was it a piece of brick? "Fool!" he bellowed, "this is not the object we've been seeking!" Lowering his voice, "I take it nothing actually _happened _to make you think this was The One?"

"No," Jerrie whispered, "'twas jus' an excuse so's t'get away an' warn ya. I…'eard 'em talkin'… Say, Mack, why not let _me_ stay an' create a di—diver-shun, an' yew an' Teaz' 'urry off an'…"

"And leave you and the kittens to the mercy of the henches? Very funny…"

"Talk _sense, _Jerr'!" Teazer hissed.

"'M sure I c'ld manage…somefin'…"

"Enough of this nonsense, Jerrie!" Mack cut him off. "We're in this together. If this is still about some ridiculous notion that you 'don't belong' among the Jellicles simply because you were used by the Tiger like everyone else…quit being daft."

"'Ow c'n yew be so…so bloody _calm _about it?"

"We always knew this day—or some variation of this day—would come eventually. It's just a bit sooner than we thought, is all. And I already heard from…Well, never mind from who, you can guess. Only he didn't know _when. _Do _you?"_

"No-o… On'y…they said sommat'bout….no' long now, an' so I thought… An'…" Jerrie trailed off, shuffling his paws, as if reluctant to tell all he knew.

"This'ere's no time t'clam up, Jerr'," Teazer said impatiently. "If'n y'knows sommat more, tell us!"

"I…didn't wanna…"

"Get _off _me!" snarled a familiar voice.

_Oh, Great Heaviside, no. Not _this _on top of everything else… _Mack glared at Jerrie. "So you wanted me to hurry off before I found out? Don't tell me—you had a plan to deal with _this _too?"

"I'd've figgered out somefin'," the tiger tom muttered.

A group of henchcats approached them, dragging the struggling figure of Admetus. Admittedly it cut rather a comical picture: the group of captors was made up chiefly of the younger cats, those who'd been in the kitten group not so long ago and were Carbuckety's age or a bit older. Mack had put them on "digging duty" under Mungojerrie. Most of them were smaller than Admetus, and it took all of their combined strengths to keep him from breaking free.

"See here, Leader," declared their spokes-cat, an orange tabby tom called Aristotle (the others had used it mockingly when he was younger, and no one had ever bothered to call him anything else). "Lookie what _we've _found!"

Mack folded his arms and assumed an air of disgust, forcing himself not to meet Admetus' eye. "Just what d'you expect me to do with _this, _then?"

"He's one of them Jellicles, Boss!" piped up a queen called Artemis. "We can force those dancing fluffy-faces to…"

Aristotle glared her into silence and continued, "We can force them to give us the Old One in exchange for getting _this _one back."

"I see. And what put it into your heads that we'll be _needing_ the Old One?"

The young henchcats looked round at one another nervously. Artemis spoke up again, "With respect, Leader, the time is nearly up and we've not had any sight of the…the Great Stone, except false alarms." She smirked at Mungojerrie, and it occurred to Mack that the tiger tom had apparently been unable to gain his charges' fear and respect. That was yet another troubling thought. "So now we can be prepared _if _the Stone does not reveal itself and we have to retrieve the Old One instead," she concluded, looking pleased with herself and her fine speech. Her compatriots, on the other hand, glared at her and shot apprehensive glances at MacVitie. Clearly not everyone had _completely _lost their fear of him.

"I see," Mack nodded slowly. "And so you just thought you'd take matters into your own paws and go sneaking round that Jellicle place without any orders, eh?"

Artemis now began to look somewhat worried.

"Oh, no, Chief," piped up a tom called Vincent, "he was wandering the streets on his own! He was practically _begging _to be taken prisoner, he wandered right up to our dig site!"

"And it never occurred to you that that might be intentional? That he might be a plant by the Jellicles, a _spy?" _

"If'n he is," Vincent laughed, heedless of the warning glances his compatriots shot him, "the joke's on them. How much spyin' can he _do _if'n we lock him up an' cut off his ears?"

"Go on, then," Admetus spat. Everyone turned to stare at him. "D'you think I _care _what you rotten bounders do to me?"

He sounded so ridiculously dramatic, especially for one so young, that Mack could almost have laughed if the situation weren't so dangerous.

"Is them fightin' words?" Vincent demanded, going nose-to-nose with Admetus. He looked back at his comrades. "I think them's fightin' words! What shall we do to him?"

Mack raised a paw impatiently. "Enough! You'll do _nothing_ to him until I say so." He nodded at Jerrie and Teazer. "Lock him up. We'll deal with him at our leisure." He desperately needed a chance to speak with Admetus alone. Whether he'd _get _that chance—or whether Adme would be willing to speak with _him _even if he did—was uncertain. Had he really left the Jellicles on his own, or had he been sent? If sent, what was the reason—the message? He'd little enough time to find out, if Carbuckety were right about the henches. Then again, Mack was beginning to think he'd been exaggerating or mistaken.


	43. Chapter 43

"Where's your mummy and daddy?" demanded Etcetera.

"Etcy," scolded Sillabub in a loud whisper, "don't be rude. She might not _have _a mummy and daddy." Raising her voice, she beamed at Electra. "But don't worry, you've got _us _now and _we'll _be your family."

"I _have _got a mum and dad," Electra corrected, somewhat peevishly. "They'll be here soon, and when they are, everything will be all right. And if they aren't, well, I'll just go find _them, _that's all."

"But where _are _they?" Etcy insisted. "And it's fine to ask now," she added, before Silla could scold her again. "They're still alive, so it won't make her sad to talk about."

"I can't tell you where they are," said Electra. "It's a secret."

"She doesn't _really_ have any parents," Tumble muttered to Carbuckety under his breath. Electra's sharp ears flitted back and picked up his words. Before the patched tomkit knew what was happening, she'd jumped on him and pinned him to the ground.

"You take that _back, _Bumble or whatever your name is," she snarled.

"It's _Tumblebrutus," _Tumble scowled, more annoyed than intimidated. Blinking in surprise, Electra let Tumble up and backed away from him as if she'd been burned. "What's your problem _now?" _he asked, dusting himself off and unable to resist a rather satisfied smirk that for some reason the mere mention of his name had been enough to make her jump.

"P-problem? Me? Nothing," Electra stammered. "Umm, sorry I knocked you down." She turned back towards Silla, Etcy, and Victoria (holding the paw of the youngest kit, baby Jemima), who had watched the scene openmouthed.

"We're not supposed to fight, 'Lecky," whispered Etcetera. "But we won't tell on you if you promise never to do it again."

"I didn't mean to," Electra sighed, "but he was _asking _for it. Did you _hear_ him? More or less called me a liar!"

"Oh, don't worry about what those silly toms say," Silla giggled. "They don't know _anything._ They make up good games sometimes, though; just catch them in the right mood and they'll play pretend badcats and goodcats and the goodcats have to rescue prisoners and fight the badcats—only _pretend _fighting, of course, we don't _really _hit each other."

"We play games like that at my old home, too," Electra grinned. "It's fun." She didn't mention that the henchkits really _did _hit and knock each other down; usually no harm done, but sometimes… "And, guess what? When my parents come here, they're bringing all those other kits with them! We'll have loads of new friends."

Victoria clapped her paws excitedly, then picked Jemima up and spun her around in a little dance.

"But won't _their _parents miss them?" Sillabub fretted.

"Er…" Electra coughed awkwardly. "No…they're all…orphans. Yeah, orphans. My parents take care of them. But the…place they live right now is about to become unsafe, so that's why they're all coming here."

* * *

_"I _know why she had a heart-attack when you said your name," Carbuckety confided to Tumble once the queenkits started chatting amongst themselves.

"There's always been _something _weird with my name," Tumble frowned. "No one ever calls me by my whole name, not even Dad. It's always been just Tumble. That's fine for a babykit, but I'm old enough to where it's getting ridiculous! I've got this super cool long name, why not use it? Or at least Brutus instead of Tumble, which sounds _way _more intimidating."

"I can tell you, but you have to promise not to get mad at your dad."

"Why would I get mad at Dad?"

"Because there's something he's never told you, even though he probably should have, but it's an awkward situation and he hasn't known too long himself and just never figured out how to…"

"If my name's _that _awful, maybe I should just change it!"

"Nah, I think eventually everyone will forget; it's just sort of really big in some people's memories right now…"

"Tell me what in _catnip _you're talking about, and how _you _know anything about it!" It irked Tumble that Carbuckety should know more about his past than _he _did.

"See, there you go getting mad already and I've not even _said _anything!"

"You've said enough. Anyway, you said not to get mad at my dad, and at the moment it's _you _I'm mad at. … And not _really _mad, but if you keep talking in riddles like Coricopat, I just _might _get there soon! Why d'you always have to poke your nose in other people's business…"

Carbuckety scratched his head. "D'you want me to answer _that _first, or the question about your name?"

Tumble rolled his eyes. "They're both the same, aren't they? You wouldn't _know _so much about my name if you weren't so nosey."

"Right!" Carbuckety grinned. "And you'd _still _be confused! But since I _do _know, I can explain so _you _know."

"So explain!" Tumble practically bellowed.

* * *

"Just listen to them," Silla giggled.

"Can't talk five minutes without shouting at each other," Etcetera observed.

Victoria made the "gone crazy" spinning motion beside her head with her paw; little Jemima, after watching a moment, tried to mimic her.

"What are they shouting at?" asked Electra. She made a fist. "Should we go over there and break it up?" she grinned mischievously. "After all, we're _not supposed to fight."_

"They're all right as long as they don't get too mean," shrugged Silla.

"What do _they _have to argue about anyway? Shouldn't they be, like, allies?"

Etcy scratched her head. "What's an Al Eye?"

"Oh, you know…like a friend."

"Of course they're friends," Silla agreed, "being the only two tomkits, they like to stick together. But they get mad at each other a lot. Bucky is always sneaking around and finding out secrets and Tumble doesn't like that."

"Why not?" Electra laughed. "If I were Tumble, I'd make Bucky share all the secrets with _me!" _

"Bucky won't always tell. That's why Tumble gets mad at him a lot. He likes to brag about knowing everything, but doesn't tell what he knows."

"That's annoying," Electra agreed. She looked round at the other queenkits and winked conspiratorially. "What _sorts_ of secrets do you think Carbuckety knows? Maybe… This isn't fighting or hitting… Maybe we can… _tickle _the answers out of him!" In actuality, she really did want to know what Carbuckety knew. Coricopat and Tantomile had mentioned a friend having already informed her parents of what was going on. Anyone else might have dismissed the idea of someone Carbuckety's age being used in the role of 'informer,' but among the henches kittens took on all manner of responsibilities at rather young ages and it didn't seem strange to Electra.

"Ooh…" Sillabub giggled. "That would be such fun!"

"But Carby kicks and flails awfully when he's tickled," Etcetera fretted. "We'll get smashed in the face!"

"Not if two of us hold his arms, two of us hold his legs, and the other tickles!" Electra grinned.

Victoria frowned for a moment, counting on her paws to see if they had enough kittens to accomplish this. Once she'd figured it up, her brow cleared and she nodded with a sly smile.

"Oh, all right," said Etcetera, catching onto her friends' enthusiasm.

"Ready?" grinned Sillabub. The queenkits all prepared to pounce, including Jemima, who mimicked the others though she didn't fully understand the plan.

Electra whispered, "Three…two…"

* * *

Tumble stood gaping at Carbuckety in disbelief. "You…you're trying to tell me…you expect me to believe that my granddad is your _dad? _And my _dad _is your _brother? _That—that can't be right, that's simply _mad, _it's…"

"Mad but true," Bucky shrugged. "And," he added, "not _so _mad if you think about it. TB was a badguy who lived a pretty long while. He didn't care how many kits he had and he never took care of them or their mums." He growled low in his throat. "But then he _dared _to try to take me and _my _mum back…"

"So I'm named after like this evil-guy version of Old Deuteronomy," Tumble moaned. "Why…why would Dad do that? Of _all _the names…"

"He didn't _know, _Tumble. For a long time the only thing he knew about his dad was his name. And he remembered his mum talking about TB as if he were the most wonderful tom in the world. And maybe he _was _nice to her for a while, he could be charming when he wanted to be…"

"This is gonna take a long time to wrap my head around…"

"ONE!" came a sudden shriek from behind the two tomkits. Before either one could react, Carbuckety found himself pinned to the floor, being tickled mercilessly under the neck and arms.

_"Tell us all your secrets," _Electra demanded in a mock-spooky voice.

"Seekits," Jemima mimicked.

"Yeah, tell us!" added Sillabub and Etcetera.

Victoria carried on silently and efficiently tickling his neck.

"Yaaarr!" Carbuckety shrieked. "I—ahahahahaha!—I don't have—secrets—Tumble, _help me!" _

"In a minute," Tumble yawned, watching the scene unfold before him and making no move to do anything. After the unfinished tense conversation of a moment ago, it was nice to have a laugh at his friend's expense and try to forget about it for the time being. All that Carbuckety had told him was too mad to even consider right now. "You _deserve_ to be tortured for a minute or two."

"Waaaah?" Carbuckety wailed. "I didn't—hahahahahaha—I didn't _do _anything! Helllllp!"

"What's going on? Who's hurt?" demanded a voice. For a moment, the kits froze. Then the queenkits somewhat guiltily hopped off of Carbuckety, though they hadn't _technically _been doing anything wrong. Electra kept ahold of his left arm for a moment, shooting him a sly wink.

"I _will _get all your secrets," she hissed, "as soon as the grownup's gone…"

"Daddy!" Silla cried, running up to greet the harlequin tom, trailed by Victoria.

Alonzo picked the two queenkits up, his expression softening somewhat. "Who was screaming? Is someone hurt?" he repeated, looking round at all the kittens.

Carbuckety stood up and somewhat sheepishly approached the older tom. "Er, nothing much. Just a bit of fun."

"Where's the harm in _that?"_ Tumble added. Something in his tone made Alonzo shoot Tumble a searching glance. Tumble only met his father's eye briefly before looking elsewhere, jaw set. Despite what he'd said, Tumble couldn't help feeling some resentment towards Alonzo for keeping so much from him.

"Nothing," Alonzo sighed. He and Tumble were due for a talk—long _overdue. _But unfortunately there wasn't time now…not until the crisis had passed and they could all move on with their lives at last… "Just…please keep the screaming to a minimum. I—we—well, it makes it sound like someone's hurt. Electra?"

"Present," said the rust tortie, approaching Alonzo with a somewhat cheeky grin.

"Munkustrap and the others need to talk to you for a moment."

"Can we come too?" begged Sillabub.

"Not just now," Alonzo said, gently setting her and Victoria back onto their feet, "but carry on with your games and Electra will be back soon."

"Don't worry," Electra threw cheerily over her shoulder as she followed the harlequin tom, "I'll tell you _all _the secrets I find out."

Alonzo threw her a quizzical look.

"Even if you have to _make some up_ to tell me," she muttered for his ears only.


	44. Chapter 44

"What is it?" Electra asked eagerly, quickening her pace as they reached the others, gathered near the Old Tyre—Old Deuteronomy, Munkustrap, Quaxo, Coricopat, Tantomile, and (oddly enough) Gilbert and Cassandra. Alonzo quietly took a seat between Old Deuteronomy and Gilbert. "Is this about my parents? Uncle Jerrie? Do they need help? Are we going to get them?"

"Patience, young one," Deuteronomy purred soothingly. "All will be well."

Electra whipped around to stare at the elderly Jellicle Leader. She had briefly met him when she first arrived with Coricopat and Tantomile, but she hadn't put two and two together until just now. "Are you…the Old One?" she whispered.

"What do you mean, Electra?" Munkustrap frowned.

"The henches. I've heard them talking about an Old One." Her eyes widened, and she went to stand protectively in front of Old Deuteronomy. "I think they want to kidnap you! If my parents were here, they would help protect you, but…"

"That is just what we are discussing," Tantomile said calmly. "How we are going to keep your grandfather safe. And get your parents back here safe and sound." She nodded at Gilbert and Cassandra.

"Hello…" Electra said uncertainly, looking at the two cats she had not yet officially met. They appeared to be related. The tom smiled, but looked strangely distant, as if he were not "all there," not completely aware of where he was or what was happening.

"This is Cassandra, who has been with us all her life," Coricopat explained, "and her father Gilbert, who was not so long ago with—that is, where you once lived—but has returned to us."

Electra frowned, wondering why Coricopat wouldn't actually say the words "henchcats" or "warehouse." Was there some reason this Gilbert shouldn't hear them? "I don't remember him," was all she said.

"It was before you were born," Cassandra spoke up. "And his time there…has left him…not quite right. But he seems happy enough. There are some things he has been telling me that I can't quite understand. Perhaps _you_ might, Electra."

Electra was rather amazed that the adults were asking _her _to help with something. For the most part, it seemed like kits here were just expected to play and stay out of the way. "I'll try," she said, standing up as tall as she could. She sat directly in front of Gilbert and Cassandra, looking expectantly from one to the other.

Gently, Cassandra took her father's paw. "Father, can you tell me again that story you were sharing before? I didn't quite catch it."

Gilbert heaved an impatient sigh. "Distracted kits, can't understand anything!"

"You're right, we can't," Electra said agreeably, but Cassandra motioned for her to be quiet.

"Please, dad," she begged, "I'll listen _really _well this time."

Gilbert scoffed as if he didn't believe any such thing, but he agreed. "Very well, then. _Listen, _it's important." He shut his eyes and was silent for several minutes. Electra tried her best not to fidget, but she was beginning to wonder if he had anything to say after all. "What are you _doing _here?" he said at last, still with his eyes shut.

Electra, startled, began to answer, "I'm—" but Munkustrap put a gentle paw on her arm to silence her. She felt bewildered, until Gilbert spoke again, apparently answering his own question in a slightly different voice pitch.

"Didn't you notice? Your cronies _brought _me here." Gilbert carried on in this way, evidently carrying on a conversation between two different cats—or, rather, _reciting _a conversation he'd seemingly overheard. _But whose? _Electra noticed that the adults all crept closer, listening just as intently as she to what followed:

_"My 'cronies,' as you call them, _didn't _steal you away from the Junkyard, so you were already wandering outside on your own. Why?"_

_"I don't answer to you." _

_"Excuse me, for the moment you _do, _seeing as I have the power to set you free or not."_

_"Do you, though?"_

_"For the moment, at least. I don't know how long it may last, so if you want to get out of here, it'd better be soon."_

_"Just let me out _now _then."_

_"You can't just walk out _immediately, _that'd be suspicious. Wait a little, and then I can show you a different exit."_

_"What difference does it make, anyway?"_

_"Freedom versus captivity? I'd say it makes _heaps _of difference, and you're an idiot if you don't clear out of here when you've got the chance. You're an even bigger idiot if you don't high-tail it straight back to the junkyard; not as if you ever learnt to survive on your own, you're a sitting duck out on the streets."_

_"You're one to talk."_

_"Look, in the meantime, can you _please _tell me what's been happening in the 'yard anyway? I need to know if…"_

_"None of my concern."_

_"What are you talking about? Of _course _it's your concern; that's your home!"_

_"Not any longer."_

_"What?"_

_"Everything I ever knew—thought I knew—is a lie. No one I thought I could trust is actually trustworthy."_

_"Listen, I heard what happened. I can understand your anger, but they're still your family, and…"_

_"Some family."_

_"Family work out their problems! They don't just run away!"_

_"That's rich, _you _talking about not running away!"_

_"I had no choice—well, perhaps I did, but not now, now it's a matter of life and death! Even if you never forgive them, don't you at least care if they're killed? Won't you stay long enough to help defend them? What about Plato?"_

_"Plato doesn't need me to defend him; none of them do, they've got Munkustrap and Alonzo, Skimble and Peter, Quaxo and the Moon Twins… And _you, _apparently, who'll either jump in and save the day or get everyone killed. I don't aim to stick around to find out which it is." _

_"Admetus. I can't speak for the others, but I'm asking—begging you—as your brother, to forgive me. And I'm asking you to stay and see this through, whatever happens. I don't want to lose you, or any of the rest of our family. Not even..." _

_"I don't have any brothers, or family. That's all rubbish. Haven't you learnt _yet? _It's everycat for himself. That's all."_

_"But— I see. Very well, then. Once you're out, you'd best get out of the city just as quickly as you can. Stow away on some ship and start fresh in America, maybe. And good luck to you." _

Gilbert leaned against Cassandra as if exhausted, and stayed that way—in silence—for what seemed forever to Electra but was really only another few moments. It was as if reciting that conversation had cost him a great deal of effort and he had to recover his strength. More than once, Electra began to ask a question, and again Munkustrap silenced her with the gentle pressure of his paw on her shoulder. She turned to glare at him in annoyance, but he looked so distraught that her expression softened. This was one of her uncles, she recalled. _Dad's brother. _Strange as it felt, the two of them barely knowing each other, she scooted closer to Munkustrap, rubbing her head against his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. She wasn't much used to such things, had to be mindful of everything she did around the henchcats…

At last, Gilbert was speaking again—again, apparently for at least two cats, perhaps even more. His voice-pitch changed slightly and there were miniscule pauses between sentences—little else to indicate who the speakers might be. Though Electra had her suspicions.

_"Try anything and he dies."_

_"They don't care what happens to me." _

_"We'll be following you; if we see anything funny, anything even remotely suspect, the least-useful of you dies, leaving the other two to carry out the plan. If you should attempt anything a second time, foolish as that would be, a second dies, and the remaining feline will carry out the plan as best he can after which he'll be killed." _

_"You know, it's pretty stupid of you to trust all four of us together with this. Don't you think the more of us there are, the more likely we'll be to scheme behind your back without you realizing?"_

_"You won't, seeing as you care nothing for any of your friends anymore…"_

_"Silence. You're quite a piece of work, sonny. Make an excellent point, too. You'll stay here where we can keep an eye on you till it's your part. As for you three… You'll arrive separately and if we see you even attempt to talk with one another, one of you is dead. I'll leave it up to your imaginations to guess who'd go first… But you, kit. What's your line? These folks seem to care an awful lot about you, whilst you care not a jot for them." _

_"I've given up caring for anyone. It only complicates matters and helps no one. No one can be trusted. The henchcats, the Jellicles—makes no difference, eventually they'll all betray you. At least you henchcats are honest about it and don't pretend anything like caring comes into it. All that matters is survival, and the only one a cat can rely on is himself." _

_"Excellent policy, kit. Good you learned it at such a young age. Yet being part of a tribe does have its advantages; you can back each other up to reach the same goals…"_

_"Sure, sure, but you can never truly trust anyone. In the end it's everycat for himself." _

_"It's too bad your little pals have't caught on to that yet. They still care heaps about you and that makes you a valuable hostage. So sorry I can't simply release you or try to persuade you to join with us. Leastways not until this is all over. But if you survive…"_

_"I will. Count on it, they'll not do anything to endanger me."_

_"Won't they, then? Thought you didn't trust anyone. You sound mighty confident." _

_"Only because I know how soft and sentimental they are. I know they'd never _knowingly_ hurt another cat. Doesn't change the fact that they've hurt cats left and right simply by refusing to accept the way the world works. Better to get away from them whilst I can." _

_"And us?"_

_"I think I prefer my independence for now. Simpler than dealing with other cats."_

_"See if you still think the same after nearly having your ears bitten off over a piece of discarded meat." _

Gilbert paused. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes and concluded oddly, "And that was the story of the Cat and the Moon. I hope you minded me better this time, young one."

"Thank you, Daddy," Cassandra purred, touching her nose to his. "I heard every word. It's my favourite story, you know."

"Yes, well," he said gruffly, "you have exhausted me. Where have you made our sleeping-quarters these days?"

Cassandra took his paw and led him to the old oven, near enough to the Tire that she could return to the group and still keep an eye on her father. After settling the older tom down for his rest, she rejoined the others. The rather silly, childish grin she'd worn in front of Gilbert had gone, Electra noticed. Now Cassandra's brow was creased with undisguised anxiety.

Electra glanced eagerly round at all the adults, waiting for one to get the ball rolling. Surely they were here to figure out what it meant—everything Gilbert had said?

"One of the first speakers was my dad," she blurted out, too eager to wait. "I know it. And—he was talking to somecat called…Admetus." She frowned. "But how Mister Gilbert was speaking for them…" She stared at Tantomile and Coricopat. "He's like _you _two, isn't he? But—I thought—how d'you know he's a friend now and doesn't still work for the henches? What if he's only making it up…"

"You mind yourself, kit," Cassandra hissed softly.

"I guess _I_ know what it's like to have a parent on the bad side," Electra turned to Cassandra, unperturbed. "Not as if my dad and mum _want _to be there, but they technically _are _for the moment. It's no fault of yours if _your _dad…"

"He's my father," Cassandra interrupted, her voice dangerously calm even as her tail twitched ominously. "I've not had him for most of my life, and now that I've got him, I'll defend him to the last, were he a hundred times a hench and killed dozens of cats—which, by the bye, he hasn't. If anyone here has a problem with that, tell me now, and Father and I will be gone before morning." She cast a suspicious glance at Tantomile. "And _don't _try and manipulate my feelings, I'm perfectly calm and rational as you can see."

"You are where you belong, child," Old Deuteronomy purred, "and so is Gilbert. We have him back at last, and shall certainly not let him go. Whatever he needs, we will do for him."

Tentatively, Electra reached out and touched Cassandra's paw with her own. "I'm glad you've got your dad back."

Cassandra's expression softened as she nodded. "Thank you, Electra. Let's see about getting yours back next."

"We _will _get him back," Munkustrap added earnestly, almost angrily. "I promise."

"Well, of _course _we will, Mister Mu—I mean, Unc—Munkle," Electra stammered slightly in confusion, uncertain how she was meant to be addressing these stranger-relatives, the more so because everyone addressed each other so formally in the warehouse. Then she laughed at her own madeup word, still not truly believing that MacVitie could possibly be in real danger—at least, nothing he couldn't get himself out of. Their helping him would simply make it happen faster, that was all. "There wasn't ever any question, right? My parents already planned to sneak us all out soon, but _you," _glancing at Coricopat and Tantomile, "thought something was wrong, and so came and got me early; guess you might be right, too, given what Mister Gilbert just said… But we'll see it all come to rights, my parents are clever and you've got a plan, haven't you?" She looked round the circle expectantly. None of the adults looked as pleased as she thought they should. "But what's the _matter?" _

"Electra," Munkustrap said softly, "when you say 'us all,' exactly whom do you mean? More than just you and your parents?"

Electra scratched her head. "Do I need to _count _them all?"

"As many as you can remember. It will be of tremendous help."

"Well…" Electra pursed her lips in thought. As she spoke, the adults exchanged worried glances, which in her concentration she didn't detect. "There's me and Mum and Dad, and Uncle Jerrie of course, and George, and…let me see, some of'em only just got their names and I can't quite… Auggie (well, his real name's Augustus, but he doesn't like it), James, Victor, Jonathan, Bill Bailey, Noilly, Tamsin, Stearns, Morgan, Amelie…" She nodded slowly. "I _think _that's everyone. There's bigger kits too, like Vincent and Aristotle and Artemis, but I don't know if we can trust'em, best let'em run away to where they can and not try bringing'em here…" She nodded. "Yeah, I think that's all."

"Thank you," replied her uncle in the same calm voice, though she noticed he gave a peculiar glance over to the twins and Quaxo.

"Clearly," said Alonzo, following Munk's gaze and speaking up for the first time since this 'meeting' began, "before anything else can be done, we've got to get those kits out."


	45. Chapter 45

"Exactly _when_ were you planning to tell me about the kittens?" Munkustrap paced back and forth in his den, where he had insisted Quaxo speak with him alone, before bringing anyone else into it. For the moment, this included the twins; Munkustrap had had just about enough of the three of them mentally consulting together and deciding what to tell and what to leave out.

"We…" Quaxo glanced uncomfortably towards the entrance, where he knew Coricopat and Tantomile waited, though out of respect for Munkustrap's wishes they were intentionally refraining from listening in or contacting him in any way. "We didn't know of them ourselves until recently."

"Not even Electra?"

Quaxo shook his head. "We couldn't see _every _eventuality when this all began…"

"She…" Munkustrap stopped pacing and wearily leaned his forehead against the wall. "She looks so much like Vitie, Quaxo."

Quaxo couldn't resist a slight grin. "And she's a spitfire like her mum."

Munk cleared his throat, bringing himself back to the task at paw. "What _can _you all see, then? And why didn't you tell me as soon as you knew?"

"The truth is," Quaxo sighed, "what Gilbert revealed earlier is the clearest indication we've had in months of what's actually going on there. We've had to rely chiefly on what we can sense from Vitie, Mungojerrie, and Rumpelteazer—their reactions to things. We can hardly ever see what's actually happening around them. Any time Mack has needed my powers, I've done some trick; any time one of us sensed a change, we investigated as best we could without being seen." He hesitated. "Carbuckety is the best at sneaking about undetected. We learnt of all the kits not long ago, largely thanks to him. By then, of course, we could sense Electra as well—though at first I mistook her for Mack. Really, of course, we should have considered this possibility from the beginning…but our focus was all on keeping Mack and the twins alive until…"

"I _told _Carbuckety to keep out of—nevermind. Clearly he didn't listen. I'm at my wits' end with that kit."

"Not…_such _a kit anymore," Quaxo ventured. "I know he oughtn't defy your authority, but he _does _want to help…"

"Well—and what's kept you from seeing clearly?"

"Distance, for one thing. That's always a difficulty anyway. It's not as if you, for example, could travel to the other side of London and I'd be able to watch your every move as if through a window…"

"But you knew that to begin with, didn't you? There must be something more. Have they got…yet another psychic hench?"

"Not that we've been able to detect. At first we couldn't understand what it was—but after today, it all makes sense… Not all the time, but when we _are _blocked from seeing, it's… Gilbert."

Munkustrap's head jerked up in alarm. "You mean he's fooling us? He's only pretending to have lost his mind?"

"No, no, he's completely unaware of it. That's the trouble. Since what happened to him the night of the Ball, he's gone back, in his mind, to the time of his life that was lost to him after…well, you know. He thinks he's a young dad and Cassandra's still a kitten. I'm surprised he hasn't asked about Hecuba. It seems he wasn't aware of his powers then, and so using them never even occurs to him now. But…that part of his mind still exists, and will occasionally manifest itself, with or without his awareness. So now it's sheer luck whether it's a help to us—as it has been today, I think—or a hindrance. Thankfully the henches all seem to think he's dead. For all intents and purposes, he's harmless to us."

"I'm not sending him away, if that's what you're worried about. How can I do that to him—or to Cassandra? But it is something we need to be aware of." Munk sighed. "And as for why you didn't mention the kits sooner…?"

"Cori and Tanto were already planning to fetch Electra, and…we figured someone—Carbuckety, in fact—could fetch the others here at an opportune time. Namely, the night of the Ball." Seeing Munk opening his mouth to protest, Quaxo hurried on, "That was when we thought the henchcats would mount a large-scale attack on the junkyard, leaving only one or two cats to watch the kits. It would have been easy for Carbuckety to get them—nothing simpler—and much safer than if he stayed here, when you _know _he'd try to help with the fighting instead of hiding in Jenny's den with the other kits. He'd have an appointed task, hopefully keeping him out of the real danger. Only now…"

"It seems their plans have changed," Munkustrap finished for him, thinking of the conversation they'd all heard.

Quaxo nodded. "They may still attack the night of the Ball, knowing that's when we're likely to be most distracted… But from the sounds of that conversation, they're going to use MacVitie, the twins, perhaps even Admetus, to capture Old Deuteronomy for them. Meaning the warehouse will be far from unguarded that night. And—if I'm to try sending them all away, we can't have the kits there…there's no way I could control what happens to them _and _the henchcats at the same time…meaning…"

"We've got to find a way to get them out before then."

"Yes…and then we've got to find a way to foil the henches' attempts to capture Deuteronomy…without endangering MacVitie, Mungojerrie, Rumpelteazer, or Admetus. Presumably they'll be followed—one of them may even be kept behind as a hostage. If they put even one _toe _wrong…" He grimaced. "Munk, I…I don't know, I honestly don't."

"Listen. Suppose we forget the disappearing. Suppose we simply defend Dad as best we can—or you bring him back again, like last time? After all, they'll not harm him as long as they think he holds the secrets they want to know…you would have time…and you wouldn't have used up all your energy with the disappearing. Are you certain they'll keep coming back? Won't they give up when they see they can't hang on to him for even five minutes?"

Quaxo shook his head. "Some of them might—the ones who don't believe in all this immortality business to begin with. But…there are others who are desperate. They'll stop at nothing until they've got Old D, and…if his answers aren't to their satisfaction…they may even conclude that the only way to get lives from him is…"

"Stop. I see where this is headed. All right, then. So we've got to manage this—all of it—can't afford to let anything slide. Please ask Coricopat and Tantomile to come in—Alonzo too, if he's still around." He heaved a deep sigh of resignation. "And I suppose…if Carbuckety is going to get his nose involved in all this anyway…I'd best at least have orders for him."

As Quaxo left to find Alonzo and Carbuckety, Coricopat and Tantomile crept silently into the den.

"Quaxo has filled me in," Munkustrap commenced, "on all the known bad news. Have you anything _good _to tell me? Just to boost morale a bit? Anything…"

"The henches have no way of spying on us from afar," murmured Tantomile.

The silver tabby raised his eyebrows. "Not even Gilbert…?"

"He can allow us or block us from getting glimpses of _them," _Coricopat explained, "but not the other way round. We're safe in that regard."

"Well, at least that's something," Munkustrap mumbled, half to himself. "Apart from that, we've got one doozy of a junkpile to sort through in a very short time."


	46. Chapter 46

"What are their plans?" Socrates demanded.

"For all I know they don't _have _any. How _would _I know, I've been _here _for the past year—and _most _of the year before _that. _Besides which I don't _speak_ with them any longer, have you never heard of a falling-out?"

"I don't half believe you. An' even if it be true, even if ye've heard nary a peep from them in ages, ye can't argue that y'don't still know'em right well, an' ye'd best come out with some pretty apt guesses or so much the worse for you. For your little cohort, I should say."

"Where are Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer?" Mack snarled. "Admetus?"

"Don't even _try _that tone with me, kit. Yer pitiful attempts at scare-tactics don't work on _me, _nor never did. As to where yer little pals are, ye'd best start talkin' if ye've any mind to see'em ever again."

"Oh, please." Mack feigned unconcern, though inwardly he was terror-struck. "You'll not harm any of _them_, you need them alive until your plans are all carried out."

_"Alive_, yes. But have ye no notion of how much pain a body can endure and still be perfectly functional?"

MacVitie didn't answer.

"The answer is quite a lot, if you want to know," Socrates informed him. "This I know from _personal experience. _Now start predictin' yer friends'—hem, _former _friends' actions, unless ye wants me to pay a visit to yer _lady _first…" He turned as if to leave.

"Wait," MacVitie stopped him, hating himself for giving in so quickly but knowing he had no choice. He'd no way of knowing whether Socrates were telling the truth or not, and it was a risk he was unwilling to take. Neither Rumpelteazer nor anyone else would suffer more because of him, not if he could do anything to stop it.

Socrates turned back with a triumphant smirk. "Yes? You've something you wish to say?"

"Look," Mack sighed, "like I said, I don't _know…" _

"If _that's _all you've to say," Socrates yawned, acting again as if he'd leave.

"Wait! I don't _know, _but I can _guess _that…they'll…"

"Speak up!" snapped the newest hench leader.

"They won't ever give up on holding their precious Ball, I know _that _at least."

"Oh? You expect me to believe that at a time like this, they'd hold their little party same as ever?"

"Of course. The Jellicle Moon—Midsummer's Night—It's a _magical_ night—at least _they _believe so. One among their number will get chosen to ascend to the Heaviside Layer, and they think the entire evening is cloaked in an extra layer of protection from the Everlasting Cat."

"Hmph. Can't say as I'm much surprised. I've those among me own ranks as believes stranger things." He shook his head. "Secret to immortality, of all the blasted notions… Though I have to wonder at _your _folk still believing in all that Everlasting Cat rot after _last _year."

"None of _their _folk actually died," Mack dared to point out. And it was true: the only fatality from that night had been TB.

"Ay," Socrates frowned, "some'ow ye managed to off ol' TB—served him right, too, he'd got too high-and-mighty and I daresay is regretted by none. I'm still quite interested in just _how _a bit of baggage like yerself managed—not of your own accord, clearly!" he chuckled. "An' now…whatever power some'ow came t'you at that time seems to've abandoned you, eh?"

As if to contradict Socrates' assertion, an eerie glow seemed to radiate from MacVitie's fur—only for an instant before vanishing. If it caused Socrates any alarm at all, he didn't show it in his body language—not the slightest flinch. "Mere tricks," laughed the henchtom, "that's all you've left, I'm afraid. But let us return to the plan. Suppose I believe you that those madcats will hold their madball the same as ever—I send you an' those worthless cheeky twins to fetch him. You understand my wishes _will _be carried out, any funny business an' yer little friend who claims to've gone rogue will be instantly eliminated. Think you can remember that an' do as yer told?"

"Certainly we _can," _Mack shrugged, still trying to keep up a careless tone. "Nothing simpler. Those two create a diversion, I fetch my—the Old One." He couldn't help adding, "I warn you, though, it's a waste of time. Surely you don't believe he _actually _holds the secrets to immortality?"

"What _I _believe don't signify," Socrates waved a paw dismissively. "Certain of my henchmen believe it, an' I better prefer to keep'em happy. Y'must know, even from yer limited experience, that a leader's constantly gotta worry about rebellions. He'll make fer a good amusement, if nothin' else. In any case—you don't expect me to believe that _you _don't believe yer ol' dad has the secrets to immortality?"

Mack shook his head impatiently. "Why would I believe any such thing? Only the Everlasting Cat is able to grant new lives—and I'm not even sure I believe _that." _

"Oh?" Socrates raised an eyebrow, looking legitimately interested.

"Well, in all my life I've never actually seen the Jellicle Choice made—never _been _there to see a cat ascend to the Heaviside Layer. Perhaps in all this time the Jellicle Choice has not even been made—seeing as _your _folk seem to interrupt at the critical moment." He shook his head, exasperated. "Why am I even saying these things to you?"

"From the sounds of things," Socrates chuckled, "y've never yet had the opportunity to say'em to anyone _else. _Seein's you may not last more'n a few more weeks—who can tell?—where's the harm in gettin' it all out at once?" He gave a mock bow. "Honoured to've been yer one an' only confidant, M'lord Macavity. But to return to business. Will you or will you not carry out my orders."

"Have I any choice?" MacVitie growled.

"None whatever," Socrates smirked.


	47. Chapter 47

"Why are grownups so silly?" Carbuckety grumbled. "I'd've done just fine on my own."

"Quiet," Alonzo snapped, "or we'll turn right round this minute and you'll stay at the junkyard where Munk can properly keep an eye on you."

"No we won't," the younger tom returned cheekily, "we can't risk a dozen kits' lives just for that—just so you can stick me in the timeout pipe."

"I _would _like to know how my den took on _that_ reputation," Quaxo put in dryly.

Alonzo, the one who had first threatened to trap his kittens in the pipe on a day when they had been driving him especially crazy, ignored that comment. "What's your line, kit? Are you _trying _to get people killed by your carelessness?"

"No," said Carbuckety, offended, "I'm _not _careless and I've never yet got anyone killed! I only want to help—and it would be nice if I could stop being treated like a baby when I'm just nearly grown!"

"Then quit _acting _like one," the harlequin tom grumbled.

"All _right, _kids," Quaxo spoke up again, warningly this time.

Alonzo was just about ready to tell Quaxo just exactly what he thought of that remark, when Tantomile murmured, "We're nearly there," and all of them quieted.

"Listen," Carbuckety hissed, "I know what I'm doing; don't do anything foolish and _don't _jump in to 'help' unless it looks like I'm about to die."

"Do as he says," Coricopat whispered.

Alonzo rolled his eyes but stayed put along with Quaxo and the twins as they watched Carbuckety slowly approach what he called the 'kittens' play yard,' where they were supposed to take their outside exercise at a certain time each day. Though 'pile of rubble' would be a better description. The thought came unbidden to the harlequin tom's mind, _Perhaps he'll get himself caught and we'll no longer have to deal with him, _but he rapidly squashed it—not before catching a reproachful look from Tantomile. However much she did her best to stay out of others' heads except in dire emergencies, neither Tantomile nor her brother could miss others' general dispositions at any given time—especially when they were so clearly broadcast.

If Alonzo were completely honest with himself, he knew he was too hard on the kit—_young tom. _He told himself it was because Carbuckety was reckless, was a little sneak, was a bad influence on the younger kittens, was a cause of worry for Munkustrap and Demeter—any number of such excuses. But what it truly came down to was his parentage: that he was yet another son of the henchtom Tumblebrutus. Something the two of them had in _common_, to make matters worse.

He had, of course, done his share of dumb things in life, same as anyone else—but never had Alonzo felt more of a downright _fool _than when he'd learnt the truth about his father. Upon further reflection, he realized he ought to have known better than to believe his mother's stories about TB—stories Alonzo could barely remember except that they were all in praise of this "wonderful tom" who "loved her better than all the world beside" and "would be sure to love his little son." Only, his father never had come to meet his _little son_; Alonzo's mother had taken him away, had hid him somewhere, promised to return—but she never _had _returned, and nor had Tumblebrutus ever made any appearance. Alonzo had been found and taken in by the Jellicles; _they _were his family now. And yet he'd held on to the stories about his father. Until they were shattered by the glimpses Alonzo had of TB during his short stay in the warehouse—and, later, by the others' descriptions of him, confirming which henchcat he was. By then, of course, Alonzo had already made the foolish blunder of naming his _own _son Tumblebrutus. Effectively, in one fell swoop, throwing out any chance he had of forgetting the whole matter, _and_ creating a point of contention with little Tumble from the very start…

None of this, of course, was Carbuckety's fault. But he was a sneaking, reckless, troublesome young thing all the same, and Alonzo found him quite difficult to tolerate. _If he were a bit more like, Electra, now…_that _would be a bit easier… _Electra had her mischievous streak same as any other kit, and was a bit rough round the edges as was to be expected of anyone who had spent the first part of their life around henchcats…but her heart was in the right place. As for Carbuckety, Alonzo wasn't so sure he wouldn't rather have remained with the henches.

_That line of thought is both dangerous and unfair. _

Alonzo whipped his head round to glare accusingly at the twins. The 'voice' had been Coricopat's, but the sentiment smelt strongly of Tantomile. He turned back round to continue watching for any signs of trouble.


	48. Chapter 48

"B-Bucky?"

"Georgie!" Carbuckety's face broke out into a broad grin. "C'mere, bring everyone else, I've got something to show you! But _quietly, _mind, it's a surprise, and it's _just _for kittens, not grownups." He glanced pointedly at the two queens seated on a pile of bricks nearby—meant to be watching the kits, but mainly talking to one another and paying little attention. Kitten escapes were rarely a problem; and anyway, the queens reasoned, the kits couldn't get far; they had no idea where to go and hunger would be certain to bring them back again before long.

George frowned. "That sounds awfully su—spewishuss. You're not going to get us into trouble, are—"

_"Please, _Georgie, no arguing, just get the others here without anyone seeing you and I'll explain everything! It's nothing bad, I promise! It's the Surprise I've been telling you about."

As little George bounded off to gather the others, Carbuckety shot a smug grin over his shoulder, in the general direction of Alonzo, Quaxo, and the twins' hiding place.

"'Georgie' and 'Bucky,' eh?" muttered Alonzo. "They seem to know each other well, and it isn't as if they are the right ages to've spent time in the kitten den together. Gather he's been paying them visits a long time, then. Funny he shouldn't have mentioned it. Or tried to help them escape before."

"There's a right time for everything," Quaxo whispered. "And big as he talks, he _knows _it was smarter to wait until he had backup. He's cleverer than you give him credit for."

"Oh, I've no doubt he is. _Plenty_ clever. _My _worry is he sells his cleverness to the highest bidder."

"He despises the henchcats and everything to do with them," Tantomile murmured. "You may rest easy on that score."

"Except the hench_kits_."

"They are innocent."

"He doesn't seem to like the Jellicles all that much either."

"If he keeps up a tough exterior to protect himself, can you blame him? I know plenty of others who do the same."

Alonzo's pelt prickled uncomfortably, and he didn't respond to that last.

After a few more moments, a small parade of kittens headed by Carbuckety approached their hiding-place. Alonzo shot another anxious glance over to the two henchqueens, who still appeared wrapped up in their conversation and heedless of the fact that their charges were getting away. _Almost as if this were planned, as if they _wanted _the kits to escape… _Perhaps it was only that they intended to snatch the kits right back again, when the henchcats invaded the junkyard…

Well, no matter. For the moment, the thing was to clear out of here as quickly as possible—not an easy prospect with this many kits… "Ten," Alonzo breathed, rapidly counting them up. "Is that everyone?" he whispered to Carbuckety. The younger tom gave a nod and a grunt, already carrying George on his back and the smallest kit in his mouth. Wordlessly, Quaxo and the twins each likewise carried one kit by the scruff and another pigaback. Alonzo followed suit, expecting some resistance—they were strangers, after all—but the kits were all oddly cooperative. Only George showed any sign of worry. Alonzo wondered if Tantomile had brought a feeling of calm to all of them. Or, perhaps they were simply too young to worry about much of anything yet.

"Right, let's go," he mumbled, careful not to drop the kit he held in his mouth.

* * *

About halfway to the junkyard, as they were passing through a humans' residential area, Carbuckety stopped, setting down the kit in his mouth and crouching to allow George to climb down from his back. "Off you get, Georgie. Auggie, go and walk with our friends. There's just one little detour I need to make…"

Alonzo and the others halted as well. Alonzo carefully set down the kit he'd been carrying by the scruff. "What are you playing at now, kit?" He glanced at Coricopat and Tantomile, who looked slightly disapproving but unsurprised, then at Quaxo, who merely shrugged.

"Nothing," said Carbuckety tranquilly, "just something I've got to do. It's important."

"It can wait till we've got the others safely home," Alonzo frowned. The kit he'd been carrying in his mouth was jumping up, trying to join his friend perched on Alonzo's back. The harlequin tom crouched down to allow the kit to climb up, whilst keeping his gaze fixed suspiciously on Carbuckety. "This whole thing is _your _operation."

"And this is part of it," the younger tom explained. "It really _can't _wait. But…why don't you four carry on back to the junkyard, and…"

George's face grew panicked. "I'm not goin' wif them, I wanna go wif _you, _Bucky!"

"Here, what's this then?" Carbuckety chuckled, shoving George goodnaturedly, albeit gently so as not to knock the smaller tom off his feet. "I told you, these are my _friends _and they'll keep you safe. They're taking you to the most fun new home you ever saw. You can do whatever you want there! Didn't you _promise _to do everything I said? All of you?" he added, looking round at the other kits. A few of them grumbled and shuffled their paws, but made no further attempts to argue the matter. "Anyway," Bucky went on, "I'll be _right _behind you—with a surprise. So be good and go along with these nice cats now."

"Follow him," Coricopat muttered to Alonzo. "We'll see the others safely to the 'yard."

With something of an exasperated sigh, Alonzo transferred his charges to riding on Quaxo and Coricopat's backs, the twins and Quaxo each once again picked up a kit by the scruff, and the four biggest kits walked.

Alonzo turned to follow Carbuckety, who was already making his way up to one of the houses. _Just what is he up to now? _


	49. Chapter 49

Alonzo crouched behind a bush—a very _prickly _bush, thanks—watching Carbuckety. Or, rather, watching Carbuckety watch _another _tomkit who was frolicking about the garden, chasing after insects. A human sat on the front stoop, _also _watching the kit.

_Why are we all sitting around watching a kit? _Would've been nice if Coricopat or Tantomile had given him some sort of hint as to what this was all about…

Just then, the human looked over its shoulder and went into the house, evidently to fetch something. Carbuckety darted from his hiding-place; apparently this had been the opportunity he was waiting for. "Hey—psst!" he hissed, approaching the smaller tom. The kit turned round in surprise. "Remember me?" Carbuckety grinned.

"Um…Bucket Bean?" the other tom ventured.

"Carbuckety," Bucky corrected. "But you can call me Bucky if it's easier. Ready to go?"

The tomkit froze. _"Go?" _

"I _told _you," Carbuckety sighed, somewhat impatient now, "that I'd be back for you."

"And—and I told _you _I couldn't leave," returned the other, glancing uneasily towards the house.

"But you've _got _to. It's about to get dangerous—say, what's your _name _anyway? You never said…"

"Percival George," said the tomkit, straightening his shoulders proudly and momentarily forgetting to worry, "after Knights and Kings."

Carbuckety was unwilling to admit he had no idea what that meant—must be 'some human nonsense,' as he muttered to himself. "Well," he said aloud, "sorry, we've already got a _George. _You'll have to go by just plain Percival." He grimaced. "But that sounds so _silly. _Can't we change it up a bit? Something…well, more _cat_-like and less _human_-like…"

Alonzo shifted restlessly in his hiding-place, unsure whether this were a kitnapping he needed to put a stop to, or a rescue he needed to help with. Whichever, Carbuckety needed to _get on with it, _why was he wasting time quibbling over names?

"Is _your _name cat-like?" Percival pointed out. "Car…Bucket? Cars and Buckets? What's so catlike about _those? _They're very human. Which suits me fine," he added smugly, "I _love _humans."

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Carbuckety waved a paw impatiently, trying not to show his embarrassment, "everyone loves humans, they're all wonderful, and all that. Anyway, cars are good for hiding-under and buckets make cozy nooks. But _you. _Just now I saw you running around the garden, leaping, jumping…"

"Pouncing?"

"Yeah, pouncing!"

"Well, of _course _I was. Everyone pounces, it's fun!"

"Yeah, except old granny cats who'd hurt their backs. But that's not the point. What I mean is, that's what we'll call you!"

"What?" Percival stared in confusion.

"Instead of _PURSE_-ivvle, we'll call you _POUNCE_-ivvle. Or even just Pounce." Carbuckety grinned.

"That's the silliest thing I ever heard," Percival scowled, "and I'm not changing my name. I _like _it. It's the name my humans gave me."

"Almost no one in the yard goes by the names their humans gave them," Bucky informed him. "Those are just for when they're _with _the humans. In the yard we like more _peculiar, dignified _names."

"S'nothing undignified about Percival, and I never asked to come to your old yard."

This was getting out of paw, Alonzo decided, preparing to show himself and intervene. Whether Carbuckety meant well or not, this kit clearly didn't want to come along, and you couldn't _force _someone to come live in the junkyard…

"But don't you want to meet your mum?" Carbuckety urged.

Alonzo froze. He was out in the open; the two toms would see him if they only turned round to look, but he neither moved closer to them nor returned to his hiding-place. _Who…? _

"I s'pose so," Percival sighed, softening just a little. "But…how do I know you're even telling the _truth _about that?"

"Look at _me_. We look almost exactly alike. You think that's coincidence? Your mum is my auntie—my mum's sister, not that she'd ever tolerate me _calling_ her auntie. Anyway, you ought to let her know you're alive at least."

Before Alonzo could fully take in the meaning of all this, the two younger toms turned round to face him, and the three felines merely stood staring at one another in stunned silence for a moment.

"Guess the moon twins couldn't trust me to get the job done myself," Carbuckety observed finally.

"Who're you?" asked Percival, bewildered. He looked once more towards the house, as if hoping the human would return and scare off these two strangers.

Alonzo merely gaped, glancing from Carbuckety to Percival and then back again. He did this several times before finally blurting out, "There's _two _of you!"

"Just said that," Bucky shrugged. "You coming or not, Pounce? The henches'll be…"

"Fine," Percival exclaimed, all out of patience. "But only if you promise to bring me back!"

"If I can," Carbuckety allowed, "if it's safe. And," he grinned, "if you don't decide you like it so much in the junkyard that you'd rather…"

"Not going to happen."

"Suit yourself," Carbuckety shrugged. "Will you take us home, Alonzo?"

Alonzo, completely baffled but unwilling to risk the henchcats finding them—if they truly were on their way—started to lead the way back to the junkyard.

"Pounce, this is Alonzo," said Carbuckety, casually introducing the two as they walked along. "Alonzo, meet Percival-who-loves-to-Pounce. Bomba's his mum and he hasn't seen her since he was a baby."


	50. Chapter 50

"Georgie! Johnny!" Electra cried, rushing up to her former playmates as they entered the junkyard. She'd insisted on keeping watch with Munkustrap until the rescue party returned. Etcetera had joined her, but had fallen asleep, as she was very much accustomed to a nap at this time of the afternoon. Munkustrap followed Electra, carefully picking his way down from the rubbish heap that had served as their lookout. He carried Etcetera with him, knowing from past experience it was a bad idea to let her sleep alone anywhere high up; her wakings tended to be rather wild.

"What's been going on? Tell me everything!" Electra demanded, bowling into the red-coated kit she'd called 'Johnny.' The two scuffled for a bit before saying anything more.

Munkustrap smiled kindly at George and the other two walkers, though he was careful to keep his distance, not knowing how they would respond. "You're all very welcome," he said, adjusting the sleeping queenkit in his arms. "This is Etcetera. You've just caught her in the middle of napping, but I'm sure any time now she'll…"

As if on cue, the cream tabby queen awakened with a jolt, tumbling out of Munkustrap's arms and landing at the feet of George and two queenkits who had not yet given their names. Etcy looked uncertainly up at them, and they gazed just as uncertainly back—but only for a moment. As if she'd inspected the newcomers and decided they were satisfactory, Etcetera jumped back up to her paws, grinning widely. "New friends," she giggled. Without further ado, she 'tackled' George similarly to the way Electra had done with Johnny.

"Etcy…" Munkustrap began to object, but the other two queenkits were already jumping onto Etcetera and George.

"Georgie Pile!" shrieked one of the kits.

Feeling a bit dazed, but seeing that none of the kits seemed upset about the situation, Munk left them to it for the moment and turned to Quaxo, Coricopat, and Tantomile, who trudged somewhat wearily into the junkyard carrying the rest of the kittens, most of whom had fallen asleep.

"We can take them to Jenny's den for now," Munkustrap said, keeping his voice down. "Did you run into any trouble?" He glanced past Quaxo and the twins, brow furrowed. "Where are Alonzo and Carbuckety?"

Quaxo passed Munkustrap the tomkit he'd been carrying in his mouth. Munk settled the sleeping kit in the crook of his right arm, then held out his left. "Here, I can take another…" Tantomile passed him the little queen she held.

"Carbuckety had a stop-off that couldn't wait," Quaxo explained. "Alonzo followed him to make sure everything was all right. Another kit…" He hesitated and looked questioningly at Tantomile.

"Munkustrap," Tantomile murmured, "you will need to prepare Bombalurina—or ask Demeter to do so."

"Bombalurina?" Munk blinked in surprise. "Prepare her…for what, exactly?"

"Erm…let's get the littlest kits to Jenny and then we'll explain," Quaxo suggested.

* * *

"But seriously," Electra told Johnny, shoving away from the tomkit, "what's been happening back home? It's important."

"Same old things, I guess," Johnny shrugged.

"No, but I mean, anything weird? You must've noticed _something. _Have you seen mu—Lady Teazer lately? What about the Leader?"

"Don't be daft, _you're _the only one who was ever allowed to see…"

"Yeah, but you must've _heard _something! I _know _you always listen in on what the Ladies talk about when they think we're not paying attention, so dish!"

"Dunno what you mean…" Johnny glanced around as if expecting spies to be lurking around every corner.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about anything _here," _sighed Electra impatiently. "We can do whatever we want, no one's going to hurt us. And the grownups'll _want _to know what you've heard, so you might's well tell _me_ first."

"Teazer?" asked Etcetera, overhearing and extricating herself from the 'George Pile.' "You mean Teazer's not back?" Her ears drooped in disappointment. "I thought when Munk said they'd gone to rescue everyone, it meant…"

"You know the Lady Teazer?" said one of the queenkits, joining in along with the other who seemed to stick close by her at all times.

_"Lady _Teazer?" Etcy wrinkled up her nose. "Why'd you call her _that? _She's too much fun to be called something so silly, and she's just 'Lectra's mum."

"She _is?" _exclaimed all the kits at once, including George, who'd picked himself up off the floor once the queens had finished Georgie-Piling him.

"Well—yeah, she is," Electra shrugged. "Guess it's fine to say so now that we're all here… Say, what're you all _staring _at? I'd've thought you'd guessed it a long time ago. Etcy kind of remembers mum 'cos she's from here—well, sort of—she's been back and forth a few times. She was here a while when Etcy was a baby. By the way, everyone, this is Etcetera. Etcy, this is George and Jonathan and Exotica and Noilly. Zotti calls mum 'Lady' because that's what we had to call the queens who took care of us. Anyway, yeah, Lady Teazer's my mum and the Leader's my dad, that's why they always treated me weird. They were scared…"

"Leader?" Noilly interrupted. "Y'mean…Mister Socrates?"

"No, silly," laughed Electra, "I mean the Lord Macavity, since when is _Socrates…" _She halted, for the first time looking truly worried. She'd known, of course, _something _was wrong from listening to Gilbert and his…visions. But she'd tried to think it wasn't as bad as it sounded, and after all they couldn't _exactly _tell who was saying what…

"Socrates is the new Leader," said Exotica, shooting Electra nervous sideways glances.

"Oh," said Electra, trying to feign unconcern, "of course I knew _something _like that had happened, he and Dad weren't getting along, and it was only a matter of time before they had some falling-out… Georgie," she added, turning to George, who was shuffling his paws and looking decidedly uncomfortable. "When's the last time _you _saw or heard of my mum or dad?"

"I—I don't remember," George stammered. "Everything's been real scary there, people whispering in corners, the Ladies've been even meaner than they used to be… Your mum was always nice to us, I liked her, but she hasn't been around in a long time. I was scared of your dad but he wasn't as mean as Mister Socrates. And—and everything's just awful, I dunno…"

"Baby," Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Look, El', even if something _is _the matter, your dad'll get'em out of it, right? I mean, he's got _magic_, Socrates can't do anything to him. So quit worrying and show us where you eat around here."


	51. Chapter 51

After taking her former denmates to Jellylorum for a snack, Electra left Etcetera in charge of entertaining the New Friends for a bit, promising to be back soon, and wandered off looking for Munkustrap and the adults who'd been on the rescue. She had not been seriously worried for her parents' safety until now. Whatever was going on, she'd been confident that they knew how to handle themselves and would be fine. But now that she'd begun putting together what Gilbert had said with what she'd heard from her friends… Well, this was getting worse and worse. Perhaps Macavity had met his match this time. And one thing was certain, she wasn't just sitting around wondering what would happen. The adults had let her in on their consultations before, so why shouldn't they now? They _needed _her input, or _valued _it to some degree—at least they'd seemed to want it earlier.

She came up upon Munkustrap, Coricopat, and Quaxo near Jennyanydots' den. (Electra hadn't yet been in the junkyard long enough to find it strange that Tantomile wasn't here with her twin.) They were seated quite close together, apparently in the midst of some tense discussion. The kits were no longer with them, and Electra guessed they'd already been put to bed in Jenny's den. Well—at least Jenny was _trying _to put them to bed; Electra could hear the unmistakable sounds of Bill Bailey's fretfulness; one of the youngest, he hadn't lived in the warehouse long enough to learn that it was best to keep quiet and avoid notice. And, she supposed, she and the other older kits had coddled him a bit. Well, now Jenny could have a turn. No doubt she was an _expert_ coddler.

Electra was just getting ready to interrupt the adults' conversation, when she felt a paw on her shoulder and turned round to see Jennyanydots herself standing there. Jenny put a paw to her mouth and beckoned for Electra to follow her. Ears flattened in disappointment, Electra went along with Jenny to the den, shooting glances over her shoulder at Munkustrap and the others. She _would _come back and find out their plans…as soon as she finished with whatever Jenny wanted. As they neared the den, Bill Bailey's fussy noises grew louder. Electra felt a prickle of guilt that she hadn't immediately come to check on the little ones. Jenny picked Bill up off the bed of blankets where she'd been trying in vain to soothe him, and carried him outside so as not to wake the others.

"Electra, dear," she began, "your little friend here is having difficulty, and I was wondering if you might know how to help. It isn't that he's hungry, I've tried that…I understand if it's simply the difficulty of adjusting after…" The older queen's eyes glistened with unshed tears, thinking of what these poor kits had been through.

"That's Bill Bailey. He just needs to chew someone's ears," Electra sighed, holding out her arms for the tomkit, though he wasn't all that much smaller than herself. Jenny handed Bill over, and he quieted somewhat at the more familiar scent of Electra. The rust tortie carried him back into the den and lay on the blanket pile with him, purring soothingly and bending her head towards Bill. "Usually Johnny does this," she explained to Jenny, who had followed. "At least he did when I was…there. But sometimes the rest of us took turns as well. Billy never really _bites, _just nibbles a bit and it makes him feel better. I guess maybe we should have just smacked him about and told him to be quiet or the adults would be mad at us, but we couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He doesn't really understand a lot. He's such a baby."

"I see," Jenny murmured, voice quivering with emotion.

Electra stayed with Bill until he fell asleep, then carefully extricated herself and stood back up next to Jenny. "That's Auggie—er, Augustus," she whispered, "and Victor, James," pointing at each of the sleeping kits in turn, "and Stearns and Morgan. They're twin sisters. We _think." _

Jenny laid a paw on each fluffy head, repeating the names to herself until she had them down. Then she smiled at Electra and tiptoed from the den.

"Miz Jenny," Electra asked, once they were well out of earshot of the sleeping kits, "what's the plan?"

"Plan, dear?"

"You know, the _plan. _For saving my parents." She glanced over at the spot where she'd seen Munkustrap and the others talking, but they had gone, and she let out a small hiss of frustration. "What are we going to _do?"_

"My dear, _you _are going to see to it your friends have all they need, and let the protectors worry about everything else."

Electra shook her head. "I want to _help!" _

"From what I hear, you've been a tremendous help already." Jenny's voice grew more and more agitated as she spoke. "You've had enough worry already to last a lifetime. That shouldn't be, shouldn't be at _all. _Your business should be to _play." _

"How _can _I play when my parents are in danger?"

"They will be fine. Munkustrap…"

"Munkustrap _wanted _my help earlier. And he _knows _I can't just sit around wondering. I'll obey orders, I promise; I just need to _know." _

"Then," Jenny sighed, with a resigned shrug of her shoulders, "after you've checked on your friends…I expect you had better discuss the matter with him."


	52. Chapter 52

There was something of a to-do near Jellylorum's den when Electra returned to her friends. Now not just Etcetera and the former henchkittens were here, but Tumble and the rest of the Jellicle kits as well—all but Jemima, who still got put to bed quite early. Jelly herself was nowhere in sight at the moment, must be inside her den fetching more food for the recent arrivals. Apart from a bit of whispering amongst themselves, everyone's attention appeared to be focused on Carbuckety and—some stranger he'd brought along. It then occurred to Electra that she hadn't seen Bucky when the rescuers had first got back—nor Alonzo, for that matter. No doubt Alonzo had gone immediately to see Munkustrap. But what was Bucky up to, and who was this new tom with him? Though she'd planned only to check on her friends briefly before hurrying off to Munkustrap, Electra lingered and crept closer to see and hear better what was happening. She also had the thought that perhaps Carbuckety, being the sneaking spy that he was, would know something of the adults' plans—and might even divulge them more readily than Munk would. It was worth a try, in any case…

"But don't you _want _to see your mum, Pounce?" Carbuckety was urging, speaking to the stranger.

"Maybe she doesn't want to see _me. _Anyway, how do _I _know she's my mum? I want to go home…"

"Of _course _she's your mum, silly, you _smell _like each other, that's how I know. You also smell a bit like Tumble and Silla and Vicki, though not much, they mainly smell of Alonzo. I mean, true, there's an awful lot of _human_ stench on you as well…"

"Pounce" let out a small hiss.

"Not that there's anything _wrong_ with that," Tumble added hastily, elbowing Carbuckety in the ribs. He pulled at the collar around his neck as if to draw attention to it, although it was truthfully a discarded one he'd found and he'd yet to go near a human. The first attempted 'visit' had been a failure, of course, due to the fire, and there hadn't exactly been _time _since then. "I mean, _I _like humans. We_ all _do, don't we?" He stared round at all the other kits, daring any of them to say no.

"I do," Etcy agreed. "Mummy says when I'm a bit bigger she'll find me a human family who live near _her _humans. And I can take turns staying there and staying in the junkyard."

"Me, too," Sillabub added. "And Grampa Deuteronomy says…"

"Sure, sure," Buck waved a paw, "humans are well enough, but you ought to know your _real _family, too." He paused. "Well, _part _of your real family. The part you _don't _want to know is dead, thank Heaviside."

"What's 'dead'?" Pounce asked, bewildered.

"Are you stupid?" Jonathan piped up. _"Dead's _what you get when you don't obey the rules."

"Not _here," _Electra cut in hastily, feeling it was time for some intervention—and abruptly reminded that she had her work cut out for her when it came to adjusting her fellow warehouse kits to life in the junkyard. She herself still had plenty to learn, of course, but Macavity and Rumpelteazer had at least _tried _to give her right ideas about things whenever they'd been able. She scooted past the other kits and came up to stand by Carbuckety and Pounce. "That's _not_ how things work here," she assured Pounce, shooting meaningful looks at Carbuckety and Jonathan. "This is just about the safest place on earth you can be. Don't pay any attention to Johnny, he just got here, he doesn't know…" She trailed off as Pounce turned to look at her. Her mouth dropped open as she glanced back and forth between Carbuckety and Pounce. "How…Who…"

"We know, we know," Bucky cut in, "we could be twins except that he's small…"

"I am _not," _Pounce protested.

"Anyway, you can't leave until…"

"Will you quite _bullying _him," Electra growled. "He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to do." She gently took Pounce's paw. "D'you _want _to meet your mum?"

"I…I guess so," Pounce sniffed. "But then I want to go home."

"All right then. Nothing simpler. Where's home?"

"W-with my humans. I dunno how to get back there."

"That's all right, I'm sure Bucky knows." She glared meaningfully at the older tomkit. "Or if he can't, I'm sure Munkustrap will take you. He's my uncle and he's really nice."

"It's too _dangerous _for him to go back there," Carbuckety insisted, "that's why I brought him _here. _I wasn't being mean, I'm trying to save his _life." _

"Well, you don't need to _scare _him half to death whilst doing it," Electra shot back. "Okay, so maybe it's too dangerous right now, but I'm sure it'll be safe again soon, _then _we'll take him home if wants to go. Now quit bossing people around and just take Pounce to his mum and then let him do whatever he _wants." _

A stunned silence followed. Carbuckety had the good grace to look at least _somewhat _abashed. Finally, he muttered, "Let's go, if we're going," and headed away from the group. Pounce followed, shooting a few uncertain glances over his shoulder.

After the two toms had gone, the other kits continued staring at Electra.

"Well—what?" she sighed finally. "He just gets on my nerves."

"Yeah," agreed Etcy.

"I _do _like him, but he gets on my nerves too," agreed Sillabub. "He always thinks he knows everything."

"He _does _know everything," George scowled. _"And _he's nice. He brought us here, didn't he? And he kept coming to see us before that and making up games for us."

"He _is_ nice, Georgie," nodded Exotica, "just a bit annoying sometimes."

"Yeah, too bossy," Noilly added, flicking her long headfur out of her eyes.

"I think he's great," grinned Jonathan, "but your fight was totally boring. Why didn't you punch him in the face, El'? He was totally asking for it."

"We're not allowed to do that here," Electra flushed.

"Is this one of those boring places where you can't do anything fun?" Noilly sighed.

"Oh, c'mon," Electra shook her head, "you don't _really _think it's fun getting punched."

"No, but it's fun punching the _other _person who's being annoying," Exotica giggled.

"In _any _case," Tumble put in, grinning at Electra (and thinking none the worse of her for her having knocked _him _down once before), "it's nice to see _him _get bossed around for a change."

"I'm sure he _means _well," Electra shrugged, embarrassed at all the attention. "I mean he just wants to help. But he just needs to learn to do it better, that's all." She was already regretting fighting with Bucky; now what if he refused to tell her anything about the adults' plans? And then what if she tried asking Munkustrap, but he just told her to stay out of it?

"By the way," she added, "who _is _Pounce's mum?"

"Well…" Tumble began, glancing awkwardly round at the others. But at that moment Jellylorum approached the little group carrying more food. At the sight of her, he clammed up and gave a sort of helpless shrug.

"Never mind," Electra sighed, "I'll see you all later…"

"You just _got _here," Etcetera protested. "We won't have any time to play before bedtime if you keep disappearing!"

"Where're you going anyway?" asked Tumble curiously.

"Isn't it obvious?" Jonathan snickered. "She's gonna get that Bucket guy to tell her everything he knows."

"Ohh, and then _you _can tell _us," _Sillabub whispered excitedly. "I love secrets!"

"Good luck with that," smirked Tumble.

"Oh, she'll get the answers all right," Noilly assured him.

"Of course I will," Electra grinned. "I'll _make _him tell me. Back soon."


	53. Chapter 53

Following in the direction Carbuckety and Pounce had gone, Electra found them outside someone's den—it wasn't one she'd visited yet, and she puzzled over whose it might be until she saw one of the adult queens emerge. The scarlet-pelted one Electra had scarcely spoken to yet, _what was her name…Bomb-something… _

Suddenly feeling that this wasn't the time to show herself, she ducked behind an old barrel and peered out from behind it. She had a vague notion that eavesdropping wasn't something Jelly or Jenny would approve of, but quashed it, not wanting to leave this spot in case Carbuckety disappeared before she had the chance to interrogate him.

* * *

"Carbuckety," Bombalurina was saying, "I've had just about _enough _of your—" The scarlet queen froze, catching sight of the other tomkit beside him. "That…you…no, but it can't…"

"I can…I can just…go," Pounce stammered, shuffling his paws uncomfortably.

"No! No. Please don't. It's just such a…" She made a visible attempt to get ahold of herself. "Well, suppose you get over here and tell me where you've _been _all this time."

And, despite the fact that he was really too big for such things, she picked Pounce up by the scruff and carried him into the den.

* * *

As soon as mother and kit had disappeared into the den, Carbuckety turned about, mouth turned up in a triumphant smirk. No doubt thinking of more spying to do or other ideas to carry out, Bucky strode back in the direction he'd come—conveniently taking him past Electra's hiding-place.

Electra had watched, open-mouthed with shock, as the little domestic scene took place before her, but she did her best to shake herself out of her daze and avail herself of the opportunity to get some answers.

As Carbuckety passed the old barrel, Electra leapt out at him and pinned him to the floor—though the smaller of the two, Electra had the element of surprise. Apart from a small yelp, Bucky didn't appear too put-out by the situation and quickly recovered. For the moment he made no attempt to get up, and merely lay there with Electra seated on his belly, looking up at her with only mild annoyance. "Well?" he prompted.

_"Well," _Electra responded, mimicking his tone, "what was _that _about?" She gestured towards Bombalurina's den. "Why is Pounce's home dangerous? And what are the adults planning to do about my parents and the henchcats?"

"Which d'you want to know?" Carbuckety yawned. "Which of those should I answer?"

"Both. All of it. _Everything, _d'you hear? It's unfair of you to go around picking up all sorts of information you've no business knowing and then not even _doing _anything with it!"

Carbuckety let out a slight hiss at that. "Not _doing _anything? What d'you call _that?" _He gestured towards the den. "And as to 'no business knowing'—he's my _brother, _and I probably saved his _life_—or saved him from getting taken back to the henchcats, which I think is generally considered a good thing around here?"

"Right. Fine. But come to that, maybe first you'd better explain how he's your brother, and why…"

"Generally people are brothers when they have the same parent. Not that it's any of _your _business…"

"It is when Jenny's put me in charge of making sure the kits are safe and happy and when I see you bullying around a kit who's scared out of his mind and rushing him to meet someone he's never met before when clearly he's not ready." Technically Jenny had only put Electra in charge of the former henchkits, but she didn't mention that.

"Well, he was about ready to run out into the streets and try to find his own way home, innit. Would you rather him be a bit uncomfortable here or go off on his own and get run over by a car?"

"Fair enough…"

"And besides, the meeting went rather well, I think—would you agree? Since clearly you were _spying." _

Electra rolled her eyes. "You're one to talk, _spy. _But yes, it seemed to go all right."

"Well, then."

"But I don't understand. Where has he _been _all this time? And what about Tumble, Silla, and Vicki?"

"What about them?"

"Bomba's their mum too, they've mentioned it before. But…I never see her talking to them and they never go into her den or anything, always their dad's. I didn't even know where her den _was _until just now. But then Pounce just suddenly shows up and she…?" Electra trailed off, not sure how to go on.

"Look…" Carbuckety sighed and tapped lightly on Electra's paw. "Let me up, yeah? I can't answer…"

Electra moved away, scowling at him. "So that's it? You won't tell me anything?"

"I said _I _can't answer, at least not properly," he retorted, carefully righting himself and giving his head a little shake. "But if you'll come with me, I think—if I'm right—we might _hear _some answers."

"What's—oh, I see. So I've got to become a spy like _you _now?"

"You already are," Bucky pointed out. "But I'll just warn you, sometimes when you listen, you wind up hearing things you'll wish you hadn't. Scary things." He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I'll be fine," Electra said defensively. "My dad's the scariest cat around and my mum's a burglar. I think I can handle anything."

"You were the most sheltered little tyke any warehouse kit ever was," Bucky shook his head skeptically. "But suit yourself. Let's get on, or we might miss something important."


	54. Chapter 54

As they made their way through the junkyard, Electra caught sight of Alonzo and Munkustrap speaking together. She tugged at Carbuckety's arm to slow him down. "Just a minute," she hissed, "I need to ask them about the plan—my parents… The other thing can wait a few ticks…" She would have made a beeline for the two toms and got their attention, but Carbuckety gave her an odd look and dove behind a junkpile, pulling her with him. Electra shot him a wrathful glare. "I wanted to try the _direct _approach first…"

"That's who I meant we should listen to. They're not talking about _your _parents just at the moment."

"What…?"

"Shh. Listen."

* * *

"Look," Munkustrap was saying, "I've never asked you to spell out what happened that night. I didn't feel that was my place or anyone else's, at least not until you and Bombalurina had settled it between yourselves—but evidently you _haven't _settled it. Now I see that perhaps I ought to have immediately sat you and Bombalurina down to sort this all out, never mind how uncomfortable it would have been. Is that what needs to happen now? Should Demeter and I intervene…?"

"You don't understand…" Alonzo began.

"Then _make _me understand. To be frank… I never wanted to be this blunt. But it seems I've no choice. I realize that what with you two living in completely different territories for so long, and having plenty to keep you occupied—no doubt you've managed to put certain things aside and persuade yourself not to think about them, but… Alonzo. You _have _to think about it now. If you...there are rules and consequences for this sort of thing. This is serious. If you truly—if Bombalurina asked me to, I might have to banish you from the junkyard. Can you _understand_ that? No one can just _do _a thing like that and get away with it. You _can't—_never mind if it was a moment of madness, you can't take a queen against her will and then…just move on, never say anything, never make it right—"

"Is _that _what you think? I didn't—Munk, I'd _never…" _

"Then it was mutual?"

"Yes—no—I don't…"

"Alonzo. You aren't making any sense. _Are_ you the kittens' father or aren't—"

_"Yes," _the harlequin answered at once, his voice almost a snarl, not even allowing Munkustrap to finish his sentence.

Munkustrap gave him a long look. "There's something important you're keeping back. What is it? You needn't betray any confidences, only tell me your side of things—be as vague as you like, but give me _something."_

"Can't it wait until…"

"No, it absolutely _cannot._ I know we've got a much bigger situation racing towards us, but that's all the more reason for resolving these other matters now. I can't have you compromised or distracted just when I need your help the most." Munkustrap shook his head. "Alonzo, this is no 'minor issue'; it's something that ought to have been attended to long ago, long before you and MacVitie rushed off on a harebrained rescue mission that's turned into—well, never mind that now. The point is, you can't continue ignoring it; it's unfair to Bombalurina _and _the kits."

"I know," Alonzo sighed. "Of course, we've scarcely even lived in the same _place _long enough to do anything about it."

"But you do now."

"Munk, I…don't even know if she _wants _anything to do with…"

"Have you _asked _her if she wants to know them? Did you encourage _them _to speak to _her _after she returned? Had you spoke of her to them at all whilst she was gone?"

Alonzo's ears flattened at the slew of questions. "'Scuse me. I'm not The World's Number One Dad like you."

"Me?" Munkustrap huffed, tone suddenly bitter. "Please. I've got _one _infant daughter who almost never gives me any trouble and one adoptive son who…quite frankly, I've no idea what to do with."

"Sounds a bit like mine," Alonzo growled. "Though I hear it's just _the age_ and they _grow out of it."_

"I've heard so too," Munk agreed. "But…they need our help and encouragement. So do our daughters. It doesn't just happen. And…of course you have to consider other factors… For instance, I have to constantly remind myself that Carbuckety has only been used to _negative _authority figures in his life. Dodging older cats and making his own way about things has been a matter of course with him. His rushing about and doing things without consulting anyone…I don't think it's maliciously meant, most of the time."

"He does seem to _mostly_ mean well," Alonzo admitted, somewhat begrudgingly. "He's a great big brat, to be sure, but seeing how well he handled those henchkits—well, he's not without his good qualities. Has a way of making'em mind, too. Maybe I ought to let _him _adopt my kits."

"Please don't even joke about such things. He's far too old for his age already. So, for that matter, is Electra. Actually I'm surprised _she_ hasn't come hunting me down asking to be put in the front lines of some great Henchcat Battle, which is no doubt what she's envisioning. It may not be far from the truth, come Midsummer's Night." He let out a small growl of frustration. "I wish they would just settle down and _be kittens!" _

"Did _you _ever let yourself just be a kit?" Alonzo pointed out dryly. "Did MacVitie? I don't even remember ever seeing you _play_. No, wait. Once. You played 'Tag' with me _once. _And then I realized you were just chasing me because you saw an old chair looking like it was about to fall and you were trying to warn me, but _I _thought you were starting a game." He smirked.

Munkustrap flushed. "This isn't about me. My point is, you've got to consider all the various influences in your kits' lives when considering how best to care for and help them. The biggest one for Tumble, Silla, and Vicki is this…this lack of resolution between you and their mother. However you two choose to be a part of one another's lives—or not—you _can't _take that out on the kits. They deserve to know their mother. And…now there's Pouncival as well."

"Percival," Alonzo corrected automatically. "It's his human pet name and he seems quite attached to it. Though…if he stays around here long enough, I'm afraid _Pounce _is what will stick."

"Well, he and his siblings shouldn't have to wonder how to relate to each other. They shouldn't have to be confused as to why it seems all right for _him_ to spend time with his mother, but _they're_ supposed to just avoid her. And… But do you see what I mean?"

"Yes," Alonzo groaned. "Tumble already resents me for it; for all I know the queens do too, but are simply afraid to show it. But I…don't know _what _to do."

"Honesty is a good place to start. Be honest with your kits about the situation—in an age-appropriate way, of course. And agree together with Bomba on a course of action, some equitable arrangement."

"Sounds like a business transaction."

"It may _have _to be, if that's the only way to get you two to speak to one another. This cold silence is getting no one anywhere."

"True enough. But, Munk… I don't…quite know _how _to be honest with the kits about it, or how to…" He gestured vaguely.

Munkustrap tilted his head questioningly. "I know this is difficult, 'Lonz', but it isn't rocket science. I suppose you and Bombalurina will have to begin by discussing what happened, and deciding together how to explain—"

"I don't know _how _to explain…"

"Coming back to the point, what _is _it that's keeping you from explaining? What aren't you telling me?"

Alonzo heaved a long, shuddering sigh. "He…showed up."

"Who? Where?"

"At the _Bull and Bush_—that henchcats' pub where I encountered Bombalurina. We ran into Tumblebrutus."

"What—"

"Not Tumble. TB. The Tiger's righthand hench. The filthy— my fa…" Alonzo shook his head. "He was there. And it seemed he and Bombalurina already knew one another somehow. She seemed none too pleased to see him, but she still wanted me to leave, because they 'had certain matters to discuss'— I _couldn't, _Munk. Not leave her alone with the likes of _him. _I tried to give _her _hints to leave and asked TB to sit down and share a drink with me—I wanted to talk, stall, distract him so she could clear out of there. But she—she didn't leave. That's something I still can't understand—why would she _stay _there? Why would she have anything to say to _him? _Not that I knew exactly who he was at the time, but he was obviously up to no good. What had brought her there to begin with? But in any case… I hoped that at least I could get TB to grow bored and leave instead. But we—kept drinking glass after glass of that…human stuff, whatever it is. Tastes awful, but somehow you eventually get used to it and want more. Makes you feel funny—kind of like catnip, but much less fun. I should have known not to try it, but—he wouldn't quit drinking, like he was challenging me. So _I_ didn't quit either. The rest…is a blur. I remember Bomba coming over and telling me again to go home. I told _her _to go home…or tried to…I couldn't think straight…we argued…that's the last I really remember…then waking up sometime later, in a corner of the pub behind some barrels. I guess it was early morning sometime, the sun hadn't risen yet. Bomba…was still there. She…" He ducked his head in shame. "…had to help me home. Even made sure to get me to my den without waking anyone. Even avoided _you _where you were standing guard."

"And…did she…tell you what had happened?"

"I still couldn't think clearly to ask any coherent questions. But when I _tried _to begin asking anything, she'd stop me and say I was delirious, I needed sleep, last night was best forgotten."

"Is that the last time you and she spoke to one another alone?"

"No…just before the Ball, I…" He gulped. "I…asked her…to be my mate. I _know," _he added quickly, seeing Munk startle up, wide-eyed with incredulity, "I _know _it was mad timing, and mad to do at _all, _since she's never felt the same, never returned my… But I had to _try. _At least once, just hear her actually _answer _me, then I figured I could finally… And then, I might be _leaving _that night, maybe forever for all I knew. And…I still didn't…remember the pub incident _properly, _but if her reaction were any indication… Well, I had to do _something. _Munk, I really did—I _tried _to…make things right, in the only possible way…take responsibility for her and the kits, as was only right…"

"But, Alonzo…" Munkustrap hesitated, wondering how his friend was missing such a major piece of the puzzle. Or _was _he missing it? "You said yourself you don't remember what happened. So how do you _know…? _And if Bombalurina wouldn't say…"

"Yet after Vitie and I had been a few weeks with the henches, Bombalurina and Demeter showed up and the Tiger sent _me_ home to 'attend my responsibilities'—which suited _him _perfectly, it left Vitie and the queens with one less protector."

"But did Bomba _herself _say that you were their…"

"No. By that time she wouldn't speak to me or even _look _at me. But did she _need _to? Wasn't it obvious? I arrived home and there were Tumble and Sillabub and Victoria. That was that. But I gather she told _you _and some of the others in more detail?"

"Not me, she didn't. As far as I can tell the only felines she's shared any proper conversation with in ages are Jenny and Demeter. And…all Jenny said to me was not to pester you or Bomba for answers nor allow anyone else to do so. There were new kits to be loved; that was enough."

"Well, and wasn't it? Why did anyone need to question it when it was so obvious…"

"Not to _you. _You've just finished explaining to me that you can't even _remember." _

"Munk." Alonzo let out some sort of painful cross between a laugh and a groan. "Once the kits showed up, _there _was my answer."

"But you're neglecting another key factor in all this."

"Which is…?"

"What you just told me a moment ago," Munkustrap said slowly and carefully, truly beginning to worry that Alonzo was losing his reason. "The fact that Tumb—TB was there. That Bombalurina seemed to know him. You may not have been in the warehouse as long as MacVitie, but clearly you've _heard_ what sort of a tom your fa—what sort of a tom he was. Suppose he had some sort of a hold over Bomba, and…"

"She's not some helpless kit, Munk. Clearly she managed to get rid of him. No thanks to me. He was gone when I woke up, and…"

"Alonzo. Think. You've _got _to consider. There's the distinct possibility that TB is their…"

_"What?" _Alonzo interrupted, his voice a low, dangerous hiss.

"You know, don't you? You know—you _think _you know, at least, and you're afraid to ask and have it made a certainty."

"Why _should _I?" Alonzo whispered. "What difference can it possibly make now?"

"To the kits? Perhaps not all that much—you and Bomba will have to decide about that, how much to tell them and when. But for you and she—"

"What? There _is _no I and she," Alonzo scoffed. "You think she'd accept me now, just because I knew the truth? She wouldn't even accept me when she knew full well I thought _I _was her kits' father."

"Stop thinking so selfishly!" Munkustrap's patience was wearing thin. "This isn't _about _whether she'll be your mate or not—as long as we're being perfectly frank here, _I_ don't think you two are well-suited and never did, but if that's the path you choose, it's up to _both_ of you to make it work. No, I'm only saying that if you and Bombalurina are perfectly honest with each other, talk everything out, clear the air once and for all—then you can _finally _begin to heal. Right now _neither _of you has, because there's still all this unspoken baggage between you." He took a deep breath. "And you've got to make absolutely certain she understands that this is a reconciliation—plain and simple—nothing more, nothing less—you aren't attaching any conditions…"

"What are you talking about?" Alonzo bristled defensively.

"Hear me out. I _know _how you feel about her, how you've always felt. But you can't…allow those feelings to dictate your behavior towards her—no." Munkustrap shook his head. "I'm saying this all wrong. I mean that if you _truly _care for her, you'll respect _her _wishes; make sure she knows that you'll take care of her and the kits in whatever capacity she needs; that you aren't simply trying to…manipulate her into becoming your mate."

Alonzo gaped at him. "I'd _never—"_

"Not intentionally, I know. But, sorry, there's this…_wounded _look you get about you sometimes, when something isn't going the way you hoped. And…in a situation like this…it's simply unfair. This has to be about what Bombalurina and the kits _need, _not what you _want. _You have to—not just _know _that, but do your best to _show _it."

"That's true enough, but...isn't it generally best for kits that their parents...stick together?"

"Usually, yes. But in this situation, you've got to consider..."

The conversation went on for a few minutes more, but the adults lowered their voices to the point that the hidden kits could no longer hear properly.

* * *

Electra turned, wide-eyed, to face Carbuckety. "So _that's _why…"

Carbuckety put a paw to his mouth and gestured for Electra to follow him. Once they were a good distance away from Alonzo and Munkustrap, he spoke at an ordinary volume.

"So does that make things clear to you?"

"Mostly," Electra nodded. "I mean, I always heard TB was a bad sort, but never knew he'd ruined so many of your friends' lives." She frowned. "No, not _ruined. _They can't _let _him ruin their lives. Just because someone's parents are bad-guys doesn't mean _they _have to be bad or feel bad all their life! Bomba and Alonzo just need to both love all their kits and not care _who _their dad is, and be _nice _to each other even if they don't like each other much. I mean I don't like _you _that much most of the time, but that doesn't mean I act like you don't exist or something. Isn't that what being a family's about? Why do grownups make everything so confusing when it's really just plain and simple?"

"Been wondering that myself for a long time," Bucky shrugged.

"And," Electra's frown deepened. "And why is _this _getting all their attention right now? Uncle Munk should be thinking what to do about the henches and how to help my mum and dad! I mean, of course it's important to work out these other family things, but first he needs to make sure everyone's going to stay _alive _to even worry about that stuff!"

"I mostly agree with you," said Bucky mildly, "but you haven't been here too long, and maybe don't know—Munk depends on Alonzo to help him protect the 'yard, he _always_ has since forever. Sure, there's plenty of other strong toms to help, but those two have always worked the best together. Only sometimes Alonzo gets distracted, and then he's completely useless. He's awfully distracted by this. See? So it _is _about keeping the 'yard safe, not just about 'Lonz and Bomba's personal problems."

"Yes, well, Munk needs to let _us _help too! Me and my friends know more than anyone what the henches are like. And I guess _you _know too, if you've spied on them as much as you say. We could even _fight_ if we had to. But no, it's all 'Stay with Jenny and Jelly and keep out of the way, dears.'"

"If you go up and just start whining at him, that's not going to make him want to let you help," Carbuckety pointed out.

Electra rolled her eyes. "So what's _your _grand idea then?"

"If we want the adults to listen to us, we've got to have something _useful_ to say, important information."

"And I gather that's what _you've _got?"

"Maybe," Bucky shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, though he couldn't help looking pleased with himself. "If it's important that it's a trap."

"What's a trap?"

_"It _is. The henchcats' plan—mainly Socrates' plan. See, they're going to send your mum and dad and Admetus here as a distraction."

"What sort of distraction?"

"I'm not _exactly _sure," Carbuckety shook his head, "something about causing disturbances during the Ball."

"So they _are _coming on the night of the Ball," Electra whispered. "I wondered…"

"Anyway, it's meant to confuse everyone so that by the time the _actual _danger arrives…"

"But what if someone _sees _them, and they just _warn…" _

"That's just what we can't _let _happen. They'll be _followed, _didn't you think of that? So if they try to warn anyone of anything, whoever's following them will just…"

"I _get _it," Electra growled, trying to hide her fear. "All that strange stuff Mister Gilbert said…it's making much more sense now." She shook her head. "So what _do _we do?"

"Play along," Bucky shrugged.

"Play along with _what?" _

"Whatever they do. Act completely terrified or confused or whatever. Have any guesses what sorts of things they'd try?"

"My dad will probably just use some of his magic and scare us," Electra said thoughtfully. "That's what he always did when he wanted to scare the henches into doing what he said. See, he's really brave and powerful but not actually _bad, _but he has to pretend to be bad to get them to listen to him. Or something like that. Mum tried to explain, but…"

"Of course he does," Bucky waved a paw impatiently, "it's been the plan all along. Since before you were born. Scare the henches into listening to him, scare _us _so we think he's really a bad guy."

"Huh?" Electra blinked. "Mum never mentioned he was trying to turn his own _friends _against him this whole time. Why would he do that? Has it _worked?" _She shook her head. "No, it _can't _have done, Uncle Munk still believes in him at least…"

"It was about being rid of the henches once and for all. See, everyone thought that once that awful Griddlebone and her chief TB were gone, the henches would lose their nerve and just sort of scatter and quit terrorizing the neighborhood. But then there was this whole slew of _new _henches that came along and Griddle convinced them your granddad had some sort of powers to make them live forever and now they won't give up till they've got him. Quaxo stopped'em once and your dad's been able to delay'em, but it's only a delay an' now they don't even believe him anymore, so…"

"So it's all a shambles," Electra concluded, paws over her face in dismay.

"Yeah," said Bucky cheerily, patting her on the back, "but not _completely_ hopeless."

"How's that?"

"If we tell all this to the grownups they'll make a plan, _and _let us help since we know so much. An' if we play along with whatever your dad and mum do, and be prepared when the henches get here, _and _Quaxo can protect Old D with his magic again…"

"That's a long list." Electra looked around nervously. "What if they're listening to us _now?" _

"Nah," Carbuckety shrugged. "Socrates is neither as clever _nor _as suspicious as Griddle was. He thinks he's said plenty and we're a bunch of softies what can't do anything and Quaxo's magic is no different from your dad's, just tricks. Which…is sort of true…"

"What d'you mean, just tricks?" Electra bristled.

"I hate to break it to you, but your dad hasn't _got _any magic of his own. All that lightning and floating things and whatnot? That's all Quaxo. They've been working together, see. You might as well know now."


End file.
